The Story of The Guys
by The Professional
Summary: Spinoff to 'HP: The Lone Traveller'. The story of Harry James Potter, the brother of the supposed BoyWhoLived, and his friends... My take on the old 'Harry the brother of the BWL' & 'Harry the Slytherin' plotline.
1. The First of September

**SUMMARY**

Harry James Potter is the only person to have ever survived the Avada Kedavra curse. Unfortunately, his twin brother, Michael Stephen Potter, is mistakenly proclaimed as the Boy-Who-Lived' instead. As he grows up, Harry becomes withdrawn and distant from his family. However, when Harry and Michael receive their Hogwarts letters, Harry sees it as a chance to finally prove his worth to everyone…

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see. Also thanks to those who have encouraged this spin-off the 'The Lone Traveller'

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER ONE – The First of September.**

"_No, please..." pleaded the voice of his mother._

"_Stand aside!" sneered another voice._

"_No…" he heard his mother's voice say, terrified yet defiant._

_He heard his mother scream as the other voice sneered the word "Crucio." The screaming soon stopped when he saw another flash fill the room._

"_Foolish woman!" the voice snarled. "You truly believed you could protect your children from me? You cannot even protect yourself!"_

_He suddenly saw the man whose voice sounded so cold and full of malice – a tall, pale figure with red eyes that seemed to shimmer with hate. His brother began to cry beside him, but he merely looked at the strange figure who had just hurt his mother. This seemed to puzzle and infuriate the stranger, but this quickly turned into what almost looked like a look of regret._

"_It is a pity I could not have you as an ally, young Potter, but you are a threat to me," he said, "And threats must be eliminated."_

_The stranger's face became emotionless as he pointed his wand straight at him._

"_Avada Kedavra."_

_The last thing he saw was a blinding flash of green, but he also heard a yell of horror as he drifted into unconsciousness._

XxXxXxXxXxX

Harry James Potter woke up with a start and sat up in his bed. He could feel the cold sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he placed his hand on his forehead and breathed deeply. It was the same dream as always – the one about that one Halloween night that had changed everything.

Before that night, he had been a perfectly content one-year old boy, but after that, even at that age, he had noticed that things had changed. His mother no longer seemed to spend as much time with him as she did with his twin brother, Michael, and, when she was born, Annie, while the boys' father and godfather seemed to pay more attention to Michael, deeming his brother 'the next Marauder'. Worst of all was the attention Michael seemed to receive from complete strangers. They had always said how much it was an 'honour' and a 'privilege' to meet his brother, while barely giving Harry a second look. It wasn't until much later that someone explained to him the Michael was famous the world over as the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. That had made the then six-year-old feel an emotion that most six-year-olds knew nothing about – bitterness.

Harry looked up at the clock on the wall – five to eight in the morning. He sighed and swung his legs over the side of his bunk, ducking his head slightly as he stood up. He looked up at the brown haired boy in the top bunk, still asleep. He considered waking him, but decided against it. _Mum'll probably be yelling up the stairs any minute now,_ he reasoned as he changed out of his pyjamas and into a black T-shirt and pale blue jeans. Sure enough, as he pulled the green sweater over his head, he heard his mother's voice yell up the stairs…

"Michael! Harry! Time to get up! Your breakfast is almost on the table!"

"I doubt it," muttered Harry as he left the bedroom just as his brother was awoken from his slumber. He walked slowly down the stairs, and made his way to the kitchen. There he found his mother, making breakfast, and his little sister sitting patiently at the table – neither seemed to notice his presence. _And I should be surprised, because? _he asked himself sarcastically. He entered the kitchen quietly and went to sit down at the table. His sister looked up as he did this.

"Morning Harry," she said, looking in his direction. "Morning Michael."

Harry turned around and saw that Michael had just entered the kitchen behind him, already fully dressed. _Merlin, how did he get dressed so fast!_ Harry wondered until he realised just how slowly he had actually walked down the stairs – some of the portraits had noticed how slowly he was going and grinned at him. One, a picture of his grandfather, even joked about Harry's 'nervousness'. "After all, the twins are starting Hogwarts today." the portrait had said, thereby sparking much discussion among the family pictures that lined the staircase wall about their first days at Hogwarts.

His mother turned around when she heard her daughter speak. "Oh," she said with a surprised expression on her face. "I didn't think you two would be up already."

"Of course they're up early," said her husband as he entered the kitchen. "Everyone gets up bright and early on their first day, Lils. Besides, I'm sure Michael…"

Harry ignored the rest of what his father said as he sat down at the table. _Michael, _he thought bitterly. _It's always about Michael. _'_Michael this' and _'_Michael that' – would it kill either of them just to talk about me, or even us, just this once?_

He sighed slightly, earning him a puzzled look from his sister. _They'll take notice of me soon enough, _he thought, trying not to smirk as the rest of his family sat down at the table and breakfast was laid out.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Harry entered the compartment with his brother and sat down next to the window, trying not to feel guilty about his reaction to his mother giving him a goodbye hug. He closed his eyes, trying not to picture his mother's face when she let go of him – his body had tensed up when she embraced him, which had probably upset her greatly. He hadn't meant to do it, but his mother's goodbye had caught him off guard. The idea that his mother might say goodbye to him as well as Michael simply hadn't occurred to him. He glanced at his brother beside him – he was still giving Harry the same look of surprise and disapproval he had given Harry back on the platform. _He's going to say something any second now, _Harry thought. _He'll probably take the moral high ground and berate me for upsetting Mum, I just know it. Well, Mr Family Favourite, if you want to give me a good talking to, then take your best shot._

However, before Michael could say anything, they both heard a voice at the compartment door.

"Is it okay if I sit here?" asked a red-haired boy with freckles.

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted.

"Yeah, it's okay," said Michael, forgetting any anger he had towards his brother.

Harry looked at his near-identical twin brother, trying to hide his frustration. _Can't he let me speak, just for once?_ Harry wondered as he regarded his slightly older brother. _Why does him being a bloody celebrity mean I'm not even allowed to speak?_ As his brother began speaking to the red-haired boy, who Harry soon recognised as being one of the Weasleys, Harry glanced at the scar across his brother's forehead. It was a lot bigger and more ragged than his own, which was smaller and tidier, if such a word could be applied to a scar. Harry had figured out exactly how his brother had received that gash across his forehead – when the Voldemort had tried to kill Harry, most of the killing curse had rebounded and annihilated the Dark Lord's body. Some of the curse, however, had sent several large splinters of wood from the cot flying everywhere. One such piece of wood had most likely collided with Harry's twin, leaving a large, jagged, almost lightning shaped scar across his brother's forehead. It was no doubt because of the scar's size that Dumbledore it had been assumed to be a result of the killing curse, whereas Harry's much smaller scar had been deemed as being a side-effect from his proximity to Michael and Voldemort on that fateful night. Since that night, Michael had become famous the world over as 'The Boy Who Lived', the one who had vanquished Voldemort.

_Meanwhile, the real 'Boy Who Lived' gets ignored, _thought Harry bitterly. Though this was a slight exaggeration, it was true to the extent that his brother had always received more than his fair share of parental attention, and as such, Harry yearned to break free of his brother's shadow and prove himself. _I'll show them,_ Harry thought. _They'll have to notice me when I out-perform him in just about everything. _Harry was looking forward to his parents seeing his first report. After all, he had not spent his life moping and sulking about his twin's unearned fame and attention. He had raided the library in their house in Godric's Hollow and had learnt as much as he possibly could. Right now, as he was about to enter his first year at Hogwarts, his knowledge was probably on par with that of a second or third year, or perhaps even a fourth year.

Harry was distracted from his thoughts as the compartment door opened and a girl with long, bushy hair entered. "Have you seen a Toad anywhere?" she asked. Everyone present shook their heads. She then resumed the search for the errant Toad as the Weasley, who had identified himself as being Ron Weasley, was trying to turn his pet rat, Humphrey, bright yellow, using a spell one of his older brothers had apparently given him. The girl, hearing the obviously fake spell, commented on it before introducing herself as 'Hermione Granger'.

"Ron Weasley," said Ron, his ears going red with embarrassment at Hermione's comment about the fake spell.

"I'm Michael," said Harry's brother. "Michael Potter, and this is my little brother, Harry."

Harry closed his mouth again. _Merlin, can't he even let me introduce myself? I mean, he hasn't let me say a damn word since we got on this train, _thought Harry irritably. _And since when am I his 'little' brother. Yes, I am younger than him by, like, two minutes, but I'm his TWIN brother, not his 'little' brother!_

A few minutes later, the owner of the lost Toad, joined them in the compartment. Harry and Michael already knew Neville Longbottom – both their families were good friends. They all started to talk, except for Harry, who didn't seem to be a part of the conversation, no matter how hard he tried to join in. Eventually, after yet another interruption by Michael, Harry got up and went to leave the compartment.

"Hey, bro'," said Michael. "Where're you going?"

Harry glared at his brother, but said nothing and left the compartment.

"What's wrong with him?" Ron asked, confused.

Michael shrugged. "Dunno," he said plainly. "I gave up trying to understand him a long time ago."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Harry walked through the train until he found a compartment that wasn't full. The sole occupant looked up as Harry entered.

"Is it okay if I sit here?" Harry asked, echoing Ron Weasley's words.

The boy, who looked about Harry's age, nodded and Harry sat down. He looked at Harry for a few seconds before sitting up slightly. "Hold on… you're…" the boy began.

Harry closed his eyes, waiting for the traditional 'you're Michael Potter's brother, aren't you?' line.

"… Harry Potter, right?" the boy finished.

Harry opened his eyes and blinked. _Did he just…? He did! He actually recognised me as Harry Potter!_ Harry nodded slightly, overwhelmed at not being referred to as 'Michael's brother' for once.

The other boy nodded. "I thought I recognised you from somewhere," he said. "You and your family came over to dinner at mine one time, remember?"

Harry looked at the olive-skinned boy with the dark blue eyes and dark, slightly curly hair. Now that he thought about it, he did recognise the boy from somewhere. He tried thinking back to all the dinners his family had been invited to.

"Zabini," remembered Harry after a slight pause. "Blaise Zabini, right?"

The boy grinned. "Yup. That's me."

The two boys talked for a while about nothing in particular. After telling each other about their families were getting on, the subject of Howarts came up.

"So, which house do you think you'll end up in?" asked Blaise.

"Dunno," shrugged Harry. "My Dad wants me and my brother to end up in Gryffindor, like him and Mum. Personally, I don't really mind, just as long as it's not the same one as Michael."

Blaise looked at Harry curiously. "You two don't get along, do you?"

Harry shook his head. "Not really. I mean, we've never been real brothers if you think about it. He's been busy basking in the attention of the world, while I've been pretty much ignored. Y'know, I bet my Dad probably couldn't even tell you anything about me. Hobbies, likes and dislikes, outlook on life – nothing.

Blaise nodded. "I got that impression when you came around last year. The fact that everyone paid attention to your brother and everything."

"Everyone but you," Harry noted. Blaise had in fact seemed a lot more interested in Harry than Michael, though Harry couldn't think for the life of him why.

"Yeah, well…" said Blaise modestly. He changed the subject back to the Sorting. "Anyway, neither of my parents went to Hogwarts, so I don't have any parental templates to follow, though they're both hoping I go into Slytherin." He paused slightly, thinking of his non-Death Eater, but still fanatic Pureblood parents. "Besides, whatever it is that puts you into each house is supposed to sort you based on personality."

"Yeah, I read about it somewhere," nodded Harry. "Each house places an emphasis one particular aspect. For Gryffindors, it's courage. For Ravenclaws, it's intelligence. For Hufflepuffs, it's loyalty and hard work. And with Slytherin, it's ambition and the will to prove yourself." _That's probably where I'll end up_, thought Harry as he said this.

"I wonder what it is that sorts us?" wondered Blaise. "A couple of twins in third year said we have to wrestle Trolls and a fifth year said they put our names in a hat and get the heads of house to pick names."

Harry smirked at these suggestions, though the second one was probably fairly close to the truth – he had overheard his parents talking about it the previous day and had heard them mention something called the 'Sorting Hat'. "Well, if it's the Trolls, we can always send Michael in first and hope the 'Boy-Who-Lived' softens them up enough for us," he said.

Blaise chuckled slightly at this suggestion. "Somehow I doubt it would do us much good," he said, before looking at Harry with a serious look on his face. "He's not the Boy-Who-Lived, is he?" he said suddenly.

Harry looked at Blaise, unsure how to react. _Did he just say…? Merlin, he did! _"How… what makes you think that?" stuttered Harry.

Blaise looked at Harry and nodded slightly. "I thought so," he said. "Your scar looks more like a side-effect of a curse than your brother's does."

"Um, well…" Harry tried to speak, but couldn't think of anything to say.

"Plus, he seems too normal. You, on the other hand, aren't," continued Blaise.

"Oh," said Harry sarcastically. "Thanks."

"Sorry. That came out wrong," apologised Blaise. "What I mean is that there's something about you that just seems… different."

Harry nodded, but said nothing.

"So, uh…" said Blaise cautiously, "What really happened?"

Harry sighed, but before he could say anything, his brother stuck his head through the compartment door.

"There you are," he said. "C'mon bro', we're nearly at Hogwarts."

Harry cursed his brother under his breath as he and Blaise got up to go and change into their school robes.

XxXxXxXxXxX

As he stood in line with the other first years, listening to the Sorting Hat's song, Harry couldn't help but feel slightly nervous. _So that's the _'_Sorting Hat' my parents were talking about,_ thought Harry. _Merlin, please don't tell me that's what sorts us!_ He glanced over his shoulder and saw that his brother was equally nervous, as was Blaise, who was right at the end of the alphabetically ordered queue. Indeed, there was a certain air of worry through the entire queue. _They're probably just nervous because the whole school's watching,_ he concluded. Though that fact was making him nervous too, he had other worries on top of that. _Oh Merlin, please don't let it put me in the same house as Michael. I don't care if we are twins and everything, just put us in separate houses…_

When the Sorting Hat had finished it's song, the Deputy Headmistress, Professor McGonagall, stepped forward and began to read out names from a piece of parchment.

"Abbott, Hannah," she said, reading out the first name on the list.

A blonde girl with pigtails stepped forward nervously and was instructed to sit down and place the Sorting Hat on her head. She did so and a few seconds later, the strange hat yelled out "HUFFLEPUFF!" The girl quickly got up and took the hat off before joining the applauding Hufflepuff table. _So that's how it's done,_ thought Harry. _It must read your mind or something and decide which house you'd do the best in._

"Appleby, Roger," called out McGonagall.

Harry watched as a small fair-haired boy stepped forward and placed the hat on his head, just as Hannah had done. There was a slight pause, longer than the last one, before the hat's voice shouted "SLYTHERIN!" The boy, still shaking like a leaf, got up and made his way to the Slytherin table, which Harry noticed wasn't applauding their newest addition in the same way Hufflepuff had applauded theirs.

The Sorting continued as "Bones, Susan", "Boot, Terry", "Brocklehurst, Mandy", "Brown, Lavender", "Bulstrode, Millicent" and "Corner, Michael" (Harry couldn't help but wince slightly at the word 'Michael') all stepped forward and joined various houses. Harry ignored the other sortings, save for "Granger, Hermione", who became a Gryffindor after a slight pause, "Longbottom, Neville", who after a long pause joined Gryffindor, and "Malfoy, Draco", who, to no one's surprise, became a Slytherin the second the hat touched his head.

_Almost my turn,_ he thought as he watched "Parkinson, Pansy" join Slytherin. He watched as one of the two identical looking girls in front of him, "Patil, Padma" stepped forward and joined Ravenclaw.

"Patil, Parvati," said McGonagall.

_They're twins?!?_ Harry thought as he watched Padma's twin put the hat on her head. _Maybe she won't go to Ravenclaw,_ thought Harry, allowing himself a little bit of hope. _Maybe it'll put her somewhere else, like…_

"GRYFFINDOR!" proclaimed the Sorting Hat. Harry stared, gobsmacked, at the hat as Parvati took it off and joined the applauding Gryffindors. Indeed, Harry just barely noticed McGonagall's voice when she called out…

"Potter, Harry."

_Maybe I won't have to be in the same house as Michael after all, _Harry thought as he stepped forward, sat on the stool and placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

_Ah, a Potter, _said the voice of the Sorting Hat, echoing in Harry's mind. _I must say it's been a while. Now, let's see. Well, you are certainly very different from your parents. Indeed, I feel you would fit in well in any of the four houses. You have plenty of courage, of which Gryffindor would most certainly have approved and you are very loyal to those you feel deserve your loyalty, so Hufflepuff is certainly an option as well. You also have a good thirst for knowledge, which would serve you well in Ravenclaw. However, your thirst to prove yourself worthy is stronger – very strong indeed. And so much cunning… Perhaps Slytherin would serve you best – unless you have any preferences, young Potter._

_Just don't put me with my brother, _thought Harry, hoping that this strange hat could hear him.

_Ah, I see you desire to be free of your brother's proverbial shadow. In that case, I have made my choice, _said the voice of the Hat._ Harry James Potter, I hereby place you in _"SLYTHERIN!!!"

Harry closed his eyes as the hat yelled out that last word, earning several gasps from around the hall. Ignoring them, Harry removed the hat and turned to his brother, who was gaping at him as if he were Voldemort himself.

"Your turn, 'brother'," he smirked before joining the Slytherin table.

As he sat down in one of the empty chairs near the fair-haired boy named 'Roger Appleby', Harry watched as McGonagall regained her composure and called out Michael's name. There was a tense silence as Michael stepped forward. _They're worried that the Sorting Hat'll put him in Slytherin too, _Harry reckoned. _Oh Merlin, please, don't let that happen._

However, it turned out that Harry had little to worry about, as the Sorting Hat quickly proclaimed Michael as being a "GRYFFINDOR!" The Gryffindor table exploded when they heard this. Harry watched as Michael joined the Gryffindor table and was showered with grins, handshakes and congratulations while two red-heads, _No doubt the Weasley twins_ Harry thought, started singing what sounded like "We got Potter!" Harry's fists clenched slightly as he realised that none of the Slytherins had seemed too bothered about the fact that they now had a Potter of their own. In fact, they had applauded Harry less than the fair-haired boy sitting near him, who Harry reckoned was probably a Muggle-born to have received the response he had received. _Fine, if they want to ignore me, then it's their loss when they finally learn the truth._

By now, the last few students were being sorted. Harry watched as "Weasley, Ronald" joined the Gryffindor table before the penultimate student, a boy with very short dark hair named "Westwood, Spencer" put the hat on his head. There was a pause before the hat decided on "SLYTHERIN!"

_Alright Blaise, your turn,_ thought Harry as Spencer Westwood approached the Slytherin table. He watched as McGonagall called out the last name on her list and Blaise sat down on the stool. There was a pause, similar to the one that preceded Spencer's sorting, before the hat yelled out for the final time – "SLYTHERIN!"

Harry noticed Spencer smile at this as the boy sat down near him. _I guess he already knows Blaise, _thought Harry as Blaise approached the applauding table. Blaise, a member of the well respected pure-blood Zabini family, sat down in the empty seat between Harry and Spencer as Dumbledore made a short speech of welcome.

"Well," said Blaise when the feast began. "Good to see I'm in a house with people I know."

Spencer chuckled at this. "Y'know, for a while there, I thought that old hat might not put us in the same house."

Blaise nodded. "Yeah, me too." He turned to Harry. "Oh, sorry. Harry, this is Spencer Westwood." He then turned to Spencer. "Spence, this is Harry Potter."

Spencer looked at Harry suspiciously, then back at Blaise. "Your family knows the Potter family?" he asked.

"Not really," replied Blaise. "We had them over for dinner once."

"Oh," said Spencer. "Um. Look, I'm…"

"For the last time, it doesn't matter," interrupted Blaise. "Besides, I had Harry for company, right Harry?"

Harry nodded. "So, I take it you two know each other."

Blaise and Spencer both nodded. "We live fairly close to each other," explained Spencer.

As the feast took place around them, the three boys began to talk, though Harry avoided telling them too much about himself to begin with. After a while, Blaise and 'Spence', as Blaise called him, started talking to each other about something they had done about a year ago involving a bunch of Pixies and a dinner party Blaise's parents were having.

_They'd probably have fitted in with Dad and his friends when they were at school_, thought Harry as he swallowed a mouthful of potato. He turned and saw Roger Appleby eating his food, not speaking to anyone. _He's probably just shy,_ thought Harry. _Not that I can blame him after the tepid welcome he received. Maybe I should try talking to him._

"Hey, uh, Roger," said Harry. "Could you, uh, pass me that jug of Pumpkin juice?"

Roger looked at him nervously before passing Harry the jug.

"Thanks," said Harry. He poured himself some Pumpkin juice, even though he wasn't a great lover of the stuff. "So, uh, what do you think of Hogwarts so far?"

Roger looked up from his food and gave Harry a look of surprise. "Um…" he stammered. "Well, I dunno yet. I mean, I'm glad I'm here, but I don't think the others are."

Harry looked around the table at the rest of the Slytherins. "I wouldn't worry about it. Slytherins are a very exclusive bunch. If you're not a pure-blood or a nasty little sneak, then most of them'll give you the cold shoulder."

"Pure-blood?" said Roger. "Oh."

"What's wrong?" asked Harry, though he had already guessed the answer.

"Well, it's just that my parents are… Muggles," he said, pausing slightly before saying the word 'Muggles'. "I didn't think that was a problem though."

"Unfortunately, some people think it is," said Blaise as he and Spencer joined the conversation.

"Yeah," agreed Spencer. "It's pathetic really, but that's the way it goes."

From that moment until the feast's end, the four boys talked about themselves, their families, the school and the Sorting.

"Yeah, it was really weird," said Roger. "I just heard this voice echoing through my head, saying I would do well in both Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Said my 'thirst for knowledge' and 'desire to do well' were strong. I was beginning to think it wouldn't be able to decide when it suddenly said something about sensing that I was destined for great things in Slytherin, so it sent me over here."

"Strange," said Spencer. "It did something similar with me – couldn't decide whether to put me in Gryffindor, Hufflepuff or Slytherin. Then it said something about me 'wanting to live up to everyone's expectations', what with my brother being so good at everything and such." He turned his head in the direction of the Hufflepuff table. "You see the Prefect with the dark hair? Y'know, the one beside the blonde girl drinking the Pumpkin juice?" he said, pointing at a fifth year. Harry and Roger nodded.

"You never told me Nathan was a Prefect!" exclaimed Blaise.

"I was going to on the train but I got sidetracked by Nathan and his buddies," said Spencer in response. He then continued addressing Harry and Roger. "Anyway, not only has my brother been made a Prefect, but he's been Hufflepuff's best Chaser since his second year." He sighed slightly when he said this. "Well, the Sorting Hat said something about me feeling the need to do just as well as, if not better than, my brother, before putting me in Slytherin. Merlin, it was weird."

Blaise nodded. "What's weirder is that the same thing happened with me. The hat wanted to put me in Gryffindor, then Ravenclaw, before saying something about me wanting to 'do my parents proud', so it put me in Slytherin."

"Really?" said Roger. "What about you, Harry? Did it do the same with you too?"

The three boys watched Harry as he nodded. "It reckoned I would do well in all the houses, though I think it was leaning slightly towards Slytherin," said Harry, wondering if he should tell the others about how the Sorting Hat offered him a choice. After a slight pause, he decided to tell them. "Anyway, it asked me if I had any preferences," continued Harry.

"You mean you CHOSE Slytherin?" exclaimed Spencer.

"Not directly," replied Harry shaking his head. "I said… thought… told it I didn't mind as long as it didn't put me in with my brother. When it heard that, it put me in Slytherin."

There was a slight pause.

"You mean…" stammered Roger. "You… you just wanted to make sure you weren't in the same house as your brother? Don't you get along?"

"Nope," answered Harry. "Never have, never will."

"But why?" asked Roger. "I mean, he seemed popular with the Gryffindors…"

"People like him because he's famous," said Blaise.

"Famous?" said Roger.

"Michael Potter's also known as 'The Boy-Who-Lived'," explained Spencer. "The only person to ever survive the Avada Kedavra curse and the one who defeated You-Know-Who when he was a baby…"

"His name's Voldemort," said Harry in a cold voice, ignoring the Spencer's shudder and incredulous stare. "And all Michael did that night was cry and get hit in the head by a piece of splintered wood," he blurted out before he could stop himself.

There was a long silence between the four boys, though fortunately, none of the other Slytherins had heard the word 'Voldemort' or Harry's outburst about his brother.

XxXxXxXxXxX

About a minute later, the Welcoming Feast ended and the students were instructed to follow the Prefects to the Common Rooms.

"This way," instructed a tall sixth year Prefect. The first years were then lead from the Great Hall down several corridors and a few flights of stairs to the Slytherin common room, which Harry reckoned must have been originally a Dungeon. After being told what the current password was, the first years were lead into the common room and told to sit down.

"The Head of House will address you shortly," said the Prefect.

Harry sat there, trying not to look impatient. _Oh god, does this 'Head of House' always take this long?_ he wondered after a good five minutes. He looked around and saw that both Blaise, Roger and Spencer, all three of them sitting nearby, were looking at him with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. When the rest of the first years started talking among themselves, Blaise, who was sitting closest to Harry, leaned over towards him.

"You okay, Harry?" Blaise asked with a concerned voice.

Harry nodded but said nothing.

"Look, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, and…" continued Blaise, but he quickly stopped as a tall, dark-haired figure made his entrance to the common room. The figure, who most correctly guessed as being the Slytherin Head of House, stood before them and addressed them with a quiet, but somehow powerful voice.

"I would like to welcome you all to the House of Slytherin," he began. "I am Professor Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House, and as such, you are my responsibility." He gazed around the room in an almost unnerving manner before continuing. "You will be shown to your dorms after I have finished. The boys' dorms are up the staircase to your left and girls to your right. Lessons will begin tomorrow morning after you receive your timetables at breakfast at 8 o'clock, understood?" He paused slightly, though everyone knew that they weren't supposed to respond. "And before you go, I would like to warn you that I will not tolerate anyone who brings shame or embarrassment to this house. If I hear of any rule-breaking or receive any complaints from teachers concerning any inappropriate behaviour, you will be punished severely." He looked at the first years once more. "That is all," he said after a slight pause. "Now go to your dorms and be ready for your lessons tomorrow."

With that, Snape turned and left the common room, his cape billowing behind him. _So that's Severus Snape,_ thought Harry as the caped figure disappeared through the portrait hole. _Maybe Dad was right about him after all._

"Alright," proclaimed the Prefect who had led the first years to the common room. "Listen carefully. My name is Dalton Point. I and my fellow Prefects, Miss Francis, Miss Strange and Mr Rockford, will now be showing you to your appointed dorms. The girls will follow Miss Francis and Miss Strange to their dorms. The boys will follow myself and Mr Rockford."

Dalton Point and 'Mr Rockford' led the first year boys up several flights of stairs before stopping outside one of the dorms, marked 'First Year A'.

"Now, as there are more of you than we usually get, there will be two first year dorms," said Dalton. He turned to his fellow Prefect. "Have you got the list, Jonas?" he asked.

Jonas Rockford nodded and produced a piece of parchment.

"Okay," said Dalton. "As you can see from the sign above the door, this dorm will be known as 'First Year Dormitory A' and the one upstairs will be 'Dormitory B'."

Taking his cue, Jonas then began to read several names from the list. "The following people have been assigned to this dorm," he proclaimed. "Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Draco Malfoy, Edmund Marcus and Theodore Nott."

Harry, Blaise, Spencer and Roger all watched as the five boys entered their new dorm before being led even further up the stairs by the two Prefects. _Unbelieveable,_ thought Harry. _Who'd have thought the first people I met would be my roommates?_ He glanced at the one boy he didn't know. The boy was taller, and probably a bit older, than Harry and seemed to have an almost surly expression on his face as they walked up the stairs. _Why do I have a feeling we're not gonna get along? _Harry thought as the group reached the top of the stairs.

"Well, this is it," said Dalton, indicated the doorway to 'First Year B'. "Make yourselves at home."

"You should know that you're very lucky to have a dorm at the top," added Jonas. "This dorm is just above ground level and, as such, has a window. Apparently, you get a nice view of the lake from that window."

The two Prefects ushered the five boys inside before leaving them. All their stuff was already there, sitting in the middle of the room. Harry was the first to approach his trunk and drag it to the nearest bed, which just happened to be right next to the coveted window. Both Blaise and Spencer followed suit, shortly followed by Roger, who all chose the beds nearest Harry's, leaving their roommate with the bed nearest the door.

"Um…" said Roger uncertainly, seeing the look the unnamed roommate was giving him. "You okay with that bed or d'you want to swap?"

"No," said the mystery roommate in a plain, almost cold voice. "I was going to take this bed anyway."

"Fair enough," said Roger, only to receive a glare from the roommate when he said that. "So, uh, what's your name?" he asked.

The boy sneered at Roger. "I knew it! You have no idea who I am, do you?"

"I… well, no," stammered Roger, bewildered by the boy's response. "Should I?"

"No," said the boy shaking his head. "I didn't expect a Mudblood like you to know anything about your betters."

Harry and Spencer glared at the boy disbelievingly, while Blaise just groaned.

"Oh, of all the people I had to share a dorm with, it had to be Cuthbert Garrett…" muttered Blaise.

"Garrett?" exclaimed Spencer as he recognised the name of the well-respected Pure-Blood family.

Cuthbert Garrett turned and looked at Spencer. "Ah, yes. Westwood, is it?" he smirked. "Yes, I thought I smelt the stench of a blood-traitor when I was downstairs." Ignoring the murderous looks on the faces of Blaise and Spencer, he turned and addressed Harry. "And Harry Potter." he continued, oblivious to the fact that Harry was slowly taking his wand from his pocket. "As if having a Mudblood in Slytherin wasn't bad enough, we also get the son of a Mudblood…"

"Stupefy," muttered Harry.

Hearing this, Cuthbert noticed the wand in Harry's hand just as the Stunning Spell hit him. The spell's power sent a now unconscious Cuthbert flying backwards onto his bed. The others stared at Harry incredulously.

"What?" said Harry, innocently. "He needed shutting up."

There was an awkward pause, when, to Harry's surprise, Spencer and Blaise started laughing, while Roger stayed quiet.

They four boys ignored the unconscious form of Cuthbert Garrett as they unpacked and continued their conversation from where it left off in the Great Hall. Harry soon found himself telling the others his version of what had happened that night. Both Blaise, who had already figured it out, and Roger, who was still very new to the Wizarding world, nodded as Harry finished telling him his side of the story, however Spencer wasn't quite as convinced.

"But if you are the real 'Boy-Who-Lived', why haven't you told anyone?" asked Spencer.

"I've tried a few times before, but I just got ignored or yelled at and branded as being jealous of my brother," answered Harry.

Spencer nodded slightly. "Makes sense," he muttered. "Alright Harry, let's say you are the real 'Boy-Who-Lived', then how come Dumbledore proclaimed to the world that Michael was the 'Boy-Who-Lived'? And why did they ignore your scar if, as Blaise says, yours looks more like a curse scar than your brother's?"

"Couple of reasons, I guess," responded Harry. "One, I was unconscious and Michael wasn't. Two, Michael's scar is bigger and more noticeable than mine, so mine was explained away as being a side-effect of my proximity to them. And three, Michael was always a more happy and fun-loving boy whereas I was more serious about things, even when I was a baby apparently. That somehow means that Michael has more good in him than me and is therefore more likely to be the Light side's great champion against the forces of evil."

Eventually, after more questions from Spencer, Harry seemed to convince Spencer that he was at least just as likely to be the real 'Boy-Who-Lived' as Michael. When they were done talking, they all got ready for bed. As the others got into their beds, Harry realised that he'd better do something about Cuthbert before he woke up and got him into trouble. He went over to Cuthbert and dragged him out of the door. Just outside the door, Harry hit Cuthbert's head off the floor slightly, just enough to hurt when he was woken up, before laying him in a position that suggested that he had tripped and knocked himself out. He then took out his wand and pointed it at Cuthbert.

"Obliviate," he muttered. He watched as a quick flash emanated from his wand and hit Cuthbert on the forehead. _That should do it,_ thought Harry. _There go the last ten minutes of his memory. Hopefully, when he wakes up, he won't remember anything after Snape's little talk._

As he put his wand back in his pocket, he heard someone coming up the stairs. _Time to put those acting skills of mine to use,_ thought Harry, as he took a few steps up the staircase so he was just above Cuthbert and yelled for help. Immediately, the footsteps hastened and Dalton Point came rushing up the stairs.

"What happened?" he exclaimed as he rounded the corner and saw Cuthbert's prone form lying on the floor.

"I… I dunno," Harry lied. "I just… found him like this…"

Harry suppressed a smirk as Cuthbert was promptly levitated to the hospital wing ("He might have given himself a concussion." Dalton had concluded.) before re-entering his dorm. Blaise and Spencer were giving him impressed looks.

"Merlin's beard, Harry," exclaimed Blaise. "That was brilliant!"

Spencer nodded in agreement. "Bloody hell, Harry. First you stun him with a spell we first years aren't really supposed to know, then you use a Memory Charm on 'Mr Pureblood Fanatic' back there and convince Point that Garrett tripped." He looked at Harry thoughtfully. "Maybe you're right. I mean, I really can't picture your brother being able to top that."

"How do you know all those spells?" Roger asked suddenly. "I read that Memory Charms aren't taught until at least sixth year, yet you can do that and Stunning Spells in first year!"

"I've read a lot," shrugged Harry.

"So what else can you do?" asked Spencer eagerly.

"I'll tell you in the morning Spence," said Harry as he climbed into his bed.

"Fair enough," relented Spencer as he extinguished the lights.

"'Night," said Roger.

"'Night Rodge," replied Harry, as did the others.

Harry lay there in the dark, thinking about the day that had just gone by. _Well, it went better than expected._ thought Harry. _I didn't expect to stun anyone, but I've made some friends already, which is always a good thing. _He suddenly realised what he had just called Spencer and Roger. Blaise already referred to Spencer as 'Spence', but 'Rodge'? _Did I just give someone I only met today a nickname?_ thought Harry incredulously._ Well, I definitely didn't expect that. Guess I'll have to come up with a nickname for Blaise now, if he hasn't got one already. _He rolled over slightly. _Hold on,_ thought Harry suddenly. _If I've just given Roger a nickname and I do the same for Blaise, one of 'em'll probably give me a nickname._ He thought about that for a few seconds – the idea seemed to appeal to him. _No-one's ever given me a nickname before…_

After a while, Harry stopped thinking about nicknames. _I wonder if tomorrow'll be as interesting as today? _Harry wondered as he finally fell asleep.

-

**Author's Note**

Well, here it is, the first chapter of The Story of The Guys done. The first few chapters are really just meant to fill in the gaps between the beginning and end of 'Lone Traveller' Chapter 6. I'm hoping to have The Lone Traveller's visit at around chapter 6 or 7, then show the effects of the visit afterwards.

You'll also probably notice I've used stuff from 'Lone Traveller' (The Hogwarts Express & The Sorting), though I have tried to expand those parts.

Anyway, I'll try and get the next chapter of both this and The Lone Traveller done soon. Until then, enjoy…


	2. An Interesting First Day

**SUMMARY**

Harry James Potter is the only person to have ever survived the Avada Kedavra curse. Unfortunately, his twin brother, Michael Stephen Potter, is mistakenly proclaimed as the Boy-Who-Lived' instead. As he grows up, Harry becomes withdrawn and distant from his family. However, when Harry and Michael receive their Hogwarts letters, Harry sees it as a chance to finally prove his worth to everyone…

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see. Also thanks to those who have encouraged this spin-off the 'The Lone Traveller'

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER TWO – An Interesting First Day.**

The next morning, the four boys made their way down to the Great Hall for both breakfast and their timetables, which Snape and several Prefects handed out.

"Looks like we've got Herbology first with Ravenclaw, followed by the History of Magic…" said Roger, reading out his timetable.

"Oh no," groaned Spencer as he read his own one.

"What's up Spence?" asked Blaise.

"History of Magic," said Spencer. "According to Nathan, it's the most boring subject ever because of Binns."

"Binns?" said Roger curiously. "Why, is he a bad teacher?"

"I dunno about 'bad', but according to Nathan, he's the most boring thing in existence," elaborated Spencer. "He's apparently the ghost of a teacher who just died one day in the staffroom without realising it and carried on teaching. He supposedly just drones on and on, oblivious to the fact that no one's paying attention."

"Sounds like a good place to catch up on some sleep to me," quipped Harry as he swallowed a mouthful of Pumpkin juice. He looked at the goblet and frowned slightly. "Why in Merlin's name do I keep drinking this stuff? I don't even like it that much!" he muttered as he put the goblet down and looked at his timetable.

"Well, I've heard that Herbology's quite interesting," said Roger. "All those weird and wonderful plants that… Muggles don't even know exist." Again, Harry noticed that Roger paused slightly before saying the word 'Muggle'. _He'll get used to it, _thought Harry as he chewed on a mouthful of toast.

"Don't worry," said Spencer. "If you think Herbology's interesting, then you'll love Flying Lessons, whenever we actually get them, not to mention Transfiguration and…"

Before Spencer could continue, everyone's attention turned to the flock of Owls that had just appeared in the Hall and were descending towards the four house tables.

"Looks like a lot of people forgot to bring stuff with them," concluded Spencer as he watched several packages being dropped in front of several students at all four tables.

"Not many on our table, though," noted Blaise.

"Apart from that one," interjected Roger, pointing at one Owl that was heading straight for them.

"Oh Merlin, don't tell me I forgot something," groaned Spencer.

"Well, just as long as it isn't me," said Blaise. "I'd never hear the end of it."

"At least we know it can't be for me," added Roger.

The Owl flew over them, releasing its package as it did so. The small red parcel landed right in front of Harry.

"Oh well, mystery solved," said Roger. He looked at the others and saw the almost horrified looks on their faces. "Um… what's wrong?" He looked at the red package, which the others were looking at apprehensively. "What is that?"

"It's a Howler," whispered Blaise.

"What's a…?" Roger began to ask.

"Something no one ever wants to receive, trust me," interrupted Spencer in an equally quiet voice.

Harry sat there, staring at the Howler and said nothing. _I don't understand! Why's someone sent me a Howler? I only got here yesterday. I haven't even had any classes yet, let alone got into trouble, unless someone found out what I did to Cuthbert. But if that's the case, then why hasn't anyone said anything? Surely I would have been punished or something before I started getting Howlers. Oh well…_

"Guess I should get this over with," sighed Harry, ignoring the looks he was getting from the Slytherins who had just spotted the Howler sitting in front of Harry. "At least then I'll know who sent this and why." he said as he reached for the Howler and opened it.

Suddenly a booming voice filled the Great Hall, causing every cup, plate, table and piece of cutlery in the vicinity to shake violently.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" boomed the voice. "YOU HAVE A LOT OF EXPLAINING TO DO!" _Oh, Merlin,_ thought Harry as he recognised the angry voice of his father.

"FIRST YOU UPSET YOUR MOTHER AT KINGS CROSS AND NOW I HEAR YOU'RE NOW A MEMBER OF SLYTHERIN HOUSE!"

_Hear?_ thought Harry, _How the hell did you 'hear' I was placed in Slytherin?_

"I THOUGHT I'D RAISED YOU BETTER THAN THIS! WHY SLYTHERIN? OF ALL THE HOUSES, WHY SLYTHERIN? MICHAEL EVEN TELLS ME YOU WERE GLAD WHEN YOU WERE PLACED IN THE HOUSE OF THE SERPENT!"

Harry glared at his brother at the Gryffindor table, who he noticed was visibly shaken by the Howler, which was still ranting on about Harry's 'becoming a dirty snake'. _So, Michael told you about me being a Slytherin, did he? _thought Harry, suppressing his rage. _Son of a bitch, that raggedy-scarred excuse for a twin brother ratted me out! _

Eventually, the Howler ended with a warning that he would no longer be a part of the family if there was any word of him acting 'like a Slytherin'. _Bit late for that threat Dad,_ smirked Harry. _I haven't been a part of the family since that Halloween night ten years ago._ Once the Howler's message ended, it burst into flames, leaving a small pile of black ash and a slight scorch mark on the table.

Harry sat back in his chair, closed his eyes and breathed in deeply as everyone in the Great Hall started muttering about the Howler.

"Did you hear that?"

"What did 'e mean by 'upset your mother'?"

"Poor Michael, imagine having a brother like that."

"Merlin's beard! That must be a first. No-one's ever got a Howler on their first day before."

"Who'd've thought Michael Potter's brother would turn out so bad?"

Harry opened his eyes again and got up to leave.

"Harry!" said Roger. "Where're you going?"

"To get my stuff," answered Harry, looking at the remaining food on his plate. "I've kinda lost my appetite."

"Me too," said Blaise, getting up.

"Yeah, and me," added Roger, also getting up.

"Hold on," said Spencer as he stuffed one last sausage in his mouth and took one last swig of Pumpkin juice. "Right, that's my appetite gone too." he added as he stood up.

Harry couldn't help but smile as he and his new friends left the Great Hall together.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The rest of the day went fairly smoothly. Harry had never had much interest in plants and Professor Binns proved to be just as boring as Spencer had said he might be. Astronomy had been equally as uninteresting ("What in Merlin's name does looking at bright dots in the sky have to do with magic?" exclaimed Spencer at one point.) but Charms had more than made up for it…

"Now, students," proclaimed the diminutive Professor Flitwick. "Simply say the words 'Wingardium Leviosa' and point your wands at the feathers before you. Remember, swish then flick and make sure your pronunciation is correct."

After a few seconds, the words 'Wingardium Leviosa' seemed to blare through the classroom as most of the Slytherins tried desperately to levitate their feathers. Harry sat back and watched them waving their wands around frantically. _Did anyone actually listen to a word the Professor said? _he wondered as Spencer nearly knocked his feather off the table when he tried tapping it with his wand. He took out his own wand and looked at it for a second.

"_Great things shall be done with this wand, just like it's brother,_"echoed the voice of Mr Ollivander, the wand maker, through Harry's mind. _"The Dark Lord performed many great things with this wand's brother – terrible but great things._"

He pointed the wand at the feather before him hesitantly. _No wonder Dad's pissed off about me being a Slytherin,_ he suddenly realised. _I mean, after all that fuss Mum & Dad made after I got this wand, it's no wonder they wouldn't want me in the house that supposedly produces more dark wizards than any other._

"Harry?" said Roger quietly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Harry muttered as he watched Blaise's feather levitate about an inch off the table before the spell failed.

"Aren't you going to try it?" Spencer asked as Roger tried and managed to get the feather several inches off the table before it too began to fall again, just as Blaise's had done.

"Wingardium Leviosa," sighed Harry suddenly, swishing and flicking his wand as he said this. The feather immediately started floating upwards. Many of Harry's fellow Slytherins stopped what they were doing and stared at the feather, trying to figure out whose it was. Harry put his wand down on the table and stared at the feather. _Let's see 'em figure this out,_ thought Harry as he made his feather do a flip in mid-air. There were several involuntary gasps, one of which came from Professor Flitwick as he and the other students scanned the classroom, trying to find the one who was controlling the feather. _Betcha these idiots're looking for someone using a wand, _thought Harry. _I just hope I get a chance to learn more wandless magic soon, I mean, I'll be damned if all I can ever do without a wand is levitation and summoning!_

After sending the feather flying around the classroom, making it perform several kinds of aerial acrobatics as it went, Harry pointed at the feather, then at the desk in front of him and muttered "Accio feather." The feather suddenly shot from it's position just above Cuthbert Garrett, who had been allowed to start classes just after lunch, to it's original place on the desk in front of Harry.

As the feather landed in front of him, Harry noticed that everyone's stares had now turned toward him. He sat back in his chair and smirked. "Let's see Michael beat that."

"How did you do that?" Blaise asked as the class ended.

"Yeah, Harry," added Roger. "That was great!"

"But how'd you do it without a wand?" questioned Spencer. "The controlling, I mean."

Roger looked at Spencer curiously. "You mean, Harry shouldn't have been able to do that without a wand?"

"Oh, wandless magic is possible, but it's very rare because it's supposed to be very hard," explained Blaise as they left the classroom and headed back towards the Slytherin common room.

"Not as hard as you might think," interjected Harry. "It's really not as difficult as people seem to…"

"So," sneered a voice from behind them. "I had a feeling you wouldn't be able to resist trying to make yourself look good, Potter."

The four boys turned and saw a blond boy, no doubt the one who had addressed Harry, accompanied by Cuthbert Garrett, a dark haired girl and two boys who, to Roger, resembled some Gorillas he had once seen in London Zoo, except the Gorillas had looked a lot more intelligent than these two. The three other boys instantly knew who the blond boy was. _Sounds like someone needs taken down a peg or two, _thought Harry as he addressed Draco Malfoy.

"Not really," replied Harry nonchalantly. "I just happen to know enough to at least get a feather off the table. I didn't see yours go very far though. What's wrong, levitating feathers too hard for you?"

"What did you say?" spluttered Malfoy, not quite expecting that kind of response from Michael Potter's less important brother.

"I said…" Harry repeated loudly, ignoring the looks of concern he was getting from everyone else. "Is levitating feathers too hard for you?"

There was a stunned silence. Was Michael Potter's brother trying to start a fight – with Draco Malfoy of all people? Was he mad?

"You... How dare you!" stuttered Malfoy angrily. "Do you even know who I am?"

"Yes, Draco, I do know who you are," replied Harry coolly. "And before you say anything, yes, I do know who your father is, so you don't need to threaten to tell him about the big nasty Potter boy, okay?"

"You impudent son of a Mudblood!" yelled Malfoy as he drew his wand.

"Put that wand away right now!" yelled another voice. The Slytherins all turned and saw the Deputy Headmistress coming towards them, looking very angry indeed.

_Oh boy, _thought Harry. _Just what I need! Guess there'll probably be another Howler waiting for me tomorrow morning…_

XxXxXxXxXxX

Meanwhile, back at the Potter House in Godric's Hollow, Lily Potter was upset – very upset.

"Oh god!" she sobbed as she dropped the photo album on the floor. "I'm a horrible mother!"

"Lily…" said James, entering the room the second he heard her.

"Don't you dare say I'm a wonderful mother James, because I'm not!" she yelled. She pointed at the photo album on the floor. "I've just looked through all our pictures of Harry and we haven't got a single one of him smiling! In every single picture, he either looks unhappy, angry or just not wanting to be there or… with us."

James went over to his wife and hugged her in an attempt to calm her down. "Ssshh, Lily, it's alright. You're just worried about Harry, that's all. We all are," he said quietly.

"B… but, you saw what he did when I tried to give him a hug. He… he just… froze as if…" sobbed Lily as she the tears began to flow down her face.

"Yes, Lily. I saw it…" mumbled James.

"And what Mr Ollivander said about Harry's wand… how it's feather came from the same phoenix as… _his_ wand. Then M… Michael writes and tells us that Harry's in Slytherin and… and about Harry's reaction to the sorting…" continued Lily.

"Don't worry," interrupted James gently. "Everything'll be fine…"

"But what if he hates us?" Lily exclaimed. "Especially after that Howler you sent… what were you thinking, sending that thing!?!" she yelled suddenly. "On his first day of all days?"

James sighed. "I… I don't know what came over me." he stammered. "I just… felt so angry after he upset you and… Oh Merlin…"

There was a very long silence as James Potter cradled his sobbing wife in his arms.

Outside the living room, Annie Rose Potter had been listening to her parents as she sat on the stairs, trying not to cry herself. _Why did Harry have to become a Slytherin?_ she wondered furiously. _Dad's always said that Slytherins were always bad people and that they always turned out evil. Even the man that tried to kill Michael and Harry was a Slytherin!_

She let out a sob, hoping that no one would hear it. No such luck – a few seconds later, her father came out of the living room and saw her sitting on the third step up. He looked at his daughter for a second, quickly realising what was upsetting her, especially when he saw a tear slowly trickling down her cheek. "Oh, Dad!" she sobbed as she lunged forward and hugged him.

"Sshh, Annie. It's okay…" he said softly. "Everything's going to be okay…"

"But I don't want Harry to be evil!" she cried suddenly.

_Evil? _thought James, almost shocked at his daughter's outburst. _Oh Merlin,_ he thought as he realised why she was so worried. _Why do I have to be so prejudiced against Slytherins, especially in front of the children?_

"Oh, Harry's not going to become evil," he said as he kneeled down in front of his daughter.

"But you said…" exclaimed Annie.

"I know what I've said about Slytherins in the past," interrupted James. "But maybe Harry'll prove me wrong, yeah?"

Annie sat there and said nothing, but James did notice that the tears weren't coming now and that Annie was almost smiling.

"C'mon," grinned James. "Let's go and cheer up you mother."

Annie nodded and the father and daughter entered the living room together, only to find that Lily had already calmed down and was writing what looked like a letter.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Well," said Spencer as the four boys sat in the empty Slytherin common room after dinner. "That was an interesting first day, don't you think?"

"Have to agree with you there, Spence," nodded Blaise. "I mean, first of all, Harry here gets a Howler for the heinous crime of allowing some tatty old hat to put him into Slytherin."

"And that was before lessons even started," added Roger.

"Can we please not talk about that?" interrupted Harry.

"Sorry, Harry," said Blaise. "But, uh, if you want to, y'know, send a reply, I can get a hold of some Howler parchment."

"And get another one of those things in response?" exclaimed Roger, shuddering slightly at the memory of the first Howler he had ever heard.

"Rodge's right," agreed Harry. "If I send them a Howler in response, my parents'll probably reply with a Howler… each."

"Ouch," mumbled Spencer. "Anyway, what were we talking about? Oh yeah, our incredible first full day at Hogwarts…"

"Which only got really interesting when we had Charms," Blaise interjected.

"In which Hal here put on one heck of a show for us," continued Spencer.

"Oh, come on, it wasn't… hold on…" said Harry, pausing as he replayed what Spencer had just said in his mind. "Hal?"

Spencer shrugged. "Well, if I'm 'Spence' and you've given 'Rodge' here a nickname, then you need one too."

"Um… okay," said Harry uncertainly. "But where did 'Hal' come from?"

"It's a variant of Harry, I think," guessed Roger.

"Yup," grinned Spencer. "Besides, I thought it'd suit you."

"Hal Potter," Harry mumbled. "I suppose it has a decent ring to it."

"What about me?" asked Blaise, pretending to be upset. "Don't I get a nickname?"

"Alright Blaze," said Harry. "Anyone have any suggestions?" he added rhetorically.

"Blaze?" snorted Spencer.

"What?" said Harry defensively. "It was the best I could come up with on such short notice."

"Blaise Zabini. 'Blaze' Zabini," mumbled Blaise, trying the name out for himself. "I can live with that."

"Oh my god…" muttered Roger incredulously. "Howlers, points for Slytherin from Flitwick, points from Slytherin from McGonagall, threats of Detention and now we've all given each other nicknames. Bloody hell, Spence, it looks like you were right. Today has been an interesting first day."

On the other end of the common room, the portrait hole opened and two girls entered the common room. The boys looked up and realised that the two girls were heading towards them.

"Looks like it's about to get even more interesting, said Spencer quietly.

"Um… excuse me, said one of the girls nervously. "Is there a Harry Potter here?"

Blaise, Roger and Spencer all looked at Harry.

"Uh… yeah." said Harry unnecessarily.

"This came for you while we were in the Owlery," she said, handing Harry a letter as she did so.

"Oh, uh, thanks," stammered Harry.

"You're welcome," said the girl.

Harry looked at the envelope curiously as the others began a conversation with the two girls. _Who in Merlin's name would send ME a letter?_ wondered Harry as he read the writing on the envelope. Suddenly, he recognised the handwriting. "Oh boy," he muttered. "Now what?"

"What's wrong?" asked the girl who had given him the envelope. "That's not another one of those Howler things is it?"

Harry shook his head. "It's from my Mum."

"Is that bad?" asked the other girl, a fairly tall girl with dark hair.

"Dunno," said Harry, putting the envelope down on the table. "I'll find out later."

The two girls were quickly invited to sit down by Spencer and Blaise, almost simultaneously Harry noticed. During the conversation that followed, Harry found out the curly-haired red-head who had given him the letter was called 'Christine Morgan' and the dark haired girl was called 'Daphne Greengrass'. Apparently, Spencer already knew Daphne quite well, as she was a member of a Pure-Blood family whose beliefs, fortunately, were more in line with the Westwood family than with families like the Malfoys, the Garretts and indeed the rest of the Zabini family. Christine, on the other hand, was a Muggle-born – _Hence her unfamiliarity with such things as Howlers,_ Harry thought – and was quite visibly nervous and probably felt out of place. Fortunately, it was Blaise to the rescue, which Harry hadn't really expected. _I don't believe it!_ Harry thought as he recognised the almost shy look on his friend's face. _I guess there is such a thing as love at first sight, or should that be crush at first sight?_

After a few minutes, Harry picked up the letter from the table and got up.

"Hey, Harry," called Roger. "Where're you going?"

"Just thought I'd read this while Garrett's hanging around with Malfoy's lot," said Harry, holding up the letter. As Harry turned and headed for the staircase to the boy's dorms, he noticed the looks of disgust on Daphne and Christine's faces when he mentioned Malfoy. _Guess Daphne's family don't get along too well with the Malfoys and Christine probably knows about the whole 'we-hate-mudbloods' ideology already – or maybe they just saw what happened after Charms,_ Harry thought as he walked up the stairs.

When Harry entered the empty dorm, he immediately sat on his bed and opened the letter. As he had guessed, the letter was indeed from his mother…

_Dear Harry_

_I hope this letter finds you well and I hope the Howler your father sent you wasn't too embarrassing for you. I remember seeing a few friends, as well as your father, receive some very nasty Howlers when I was at Hogwarts._

_I just wanted to tell you that your father feels very bad about how he reacted and sends his apologies. I also wanted you to know that, whatever you do, your father and I are very proud of you. I just wanted you to know that so you know that there's no need to try and 'prove yourself'. If we have ever made you feel inferior in any way, then I am very sorry, but please don't feel you have to outdo your brother or make us 'recognise your worth'. _

_You are my son. I love you and am very proud of you – nothing will ever change that. Please remember that. _

_Lots of Love_

_Mum_

Harry stared at the letter disbelievingly. _Does she really mean it?_ he wondered. _Or is she just saying that to 'make me feel better' or something._ He read the letter again.

"Dad? Sorry? Well, that's a first!" he mumbled as he re-read the second paragraph, but it was the last paragraph that really surprised him. _I love you and am very proud of you – nothing will ever change that,_ he read over and over again. It was after the sixth reading that Harry noticed what looked like a tear-stain near the top of the parchment. _She… she was crying?_ _Because of me?_ All of a sudden, Harry began to feel a sense of guilt – between his wand, his reaction to her attempts at a motherly goodbye and being sorted into Slytherin, it was little wonder she was upset, he realised as he put the letter down on his bedside table.

_Maybe they do care,_ thought Harry as he sat alone in his dorm.

-

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Just thought I'd better say a few things about this story…

Though I do agree that Slytherin Harry/Gryffindor Ginny could potentially be interesting, I'm NOT doing Harry/Ginny in this fic. If you want to see a Harry that loves Ginny Weasley, then read the Lone Traveller. Also, I don't do Slash, so there's no need for anyone to 'worry' about Harry being gay.

Also, as far as uniting the houses is concerned, all I can say is that there's a reason for the upcoming 'war' between the people soon to be known as The Guys and the PFBs. (we've already seen an early 'skirmish' in Lone Traveller)

**Lady FoxFire:** Guess this chapter's just answered your question.

Still to come…

Harry's first Potions, DADA and Flying Lesson, the Halloween Troll, Harry's first Quidditch match and a visit from a passing Traveller. After that, the fun really starts, especially in second year and beyond…


	3. Notable Incidents

**SUMMARY**

Harry James Potter is the only person to have ever survived the Avada Kedavra curse. Unfortunately, his twin brother, Michael Stephen Potter, mistakenly proclaimed as the Boy-Who-Lived'. As he grows up, Harry becomes withdrawn and distant from his family. However, when Harry and Michael receive their Hogwarts letters, Harry sees it as a chance to finally prove to himself and to everyone else who the true 'Boy-Who-Lived' is…

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see. Also thanks to those who have encouraged this spin-off the 'The Lone Traveller'

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER THREE – Notable Incidents.**

Harry couldn't help but feel that his first Potions lesson wouldn't go very well. Not only did the teacher have a grudge with Harry's father, but it was also the first year Slytherin's first class with the Gryffindors. Most of the Slytherins had been looking forward to this lesson, as it was common knowledge that Professor Snape, as Head of Slytherin, was incredibly biased in favour of his own house.

_Knowing my luck, I'll probably be the first Slytherin to ever lose points in a Snape taught Potions Class, _thought Harry as he, Blaise, Roger and Spencer all entered the Dungeon in which Potions was taught. The four of them sat down at the edge of the Slytherin group, knowing that there would probably be a fuss if any pure-blood fanatics like Malfoy or Garrett had to sit near the Gryffindors, not that Harry enjoyed the prospect of being near his brother.

Soon, everyone from first year Slytherin and Gryffindor was present and were busy getting out their stuff when the Potions Master swept into the room. As he had when welcoming the first year Slytherins, Snape regarded them in an almost unnerving manner. After a few seconds, he welcomed them to Potions, warning them that he would take a very dim view of any fooling around in his classes, before proceeding to read out the register. After he read out the names of Pansy Parkinson and Parvati Patil, he stopped.

"Ah. I see we have a pair of Potters in our midst." He stood and glared at Harry, then at Michael. "Including Michael Potter, our new… celebrity."

Harry's fists clenched slightly as he watched Michael return Snape's glare. _It always has to be about him, doesn't it… _He noticed that many of the Slytherins were sniggering as Snape proceeded to ask Michael some random questions.

"Potter!" said Snape. "What would I get if I added Powdered Root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?"

"Um… I, uh… don't know," stammered Michael.

_Oh my god, he doesn't know?_ thought Harry. _Does he actually know anything?_ he wondered, noting that Michael had never been a great lover of books, which had ensured that Harry usually had the Potter family book collection to himself.

"Where would I find a Bezoar stone?" Snape continued.

_Stomach of a Goat,_ thought Harry. _Come on Michael, you should know that at least._

"I… I don't know," said Michael quietly.

"In what potion are the petals of a Frinassic Plant and the seeds of a Sunflower essential ingredients?" asked Snape.

"I… um…" stammered Michael, again unable to answer the question.

"Five points from Gryffindor," smirked Snape. "It appears that fame does not necessarily ensure intelligence." He turned and looked at Harry. "Perhaps your unnoticed brother may be able to answer…"

"Draught of Living Death, Stomach of a Goat and Swelling Solution," said Harry clearly.

Snape looked at Harry with a curious mixture of surprise and anger. _Don't you just hate it when you misjudge a person, eh Snape?_ Harry thought, trying not to laugh out loud at Snape's expression. Suddenly Snape asked Harry another question.

"Potter! What's the difference between Monkswood and Wolfsbane," he asked.

"The name," replied Harry, slightly disappointed that Snape had chosen such an easy question. "Otherwise it's the same plant."

Snape frowned slightly. "Well, Potter, if you want a more challenging question, then perhaps you can tell me the most popular use of Armadillo Bile."

Harry frowned slightly. _How did he know what I was thinking? _he wondered. _And what does he think he's playing at, asking me that? That's an OWL level question. Oh well…_

"I believe it's most common use is in the Wit-sharpening potion."

"Name one possible use of Ginger Root?" asked Snape after a slight pause.

"Also the Wit-Sharpening potion, sir," answered Harry.

"Which potion uses Frozen Ashwinder Eggs as a main ingredient?" Snape continued.

"Um… Love Potions… I think," replied Harry with a little more difficulty. _Oh no, please tell me he's not going to keep asking until I get one wrong. Surely he's not as petty as Dad said he was._

Suddenly the look on Snape's face changed. _Oh god, what have I done now?_ Harry wondered as he tried to interpret the look on the Potions Master's face.

"Damn Potters," muttered Snape angrily. "Five points to Slytherin for your impeccable knowledge Potter, and ten points from Slytherin for your insolence."

There was a shocked gasp from both the Slytherins and the Gryffindors. _Well, whaddaya know?_ Harry thought as he remembered his prediction as he entered the Potions Lab. _First Slytherin to loose points in one of Snape's classes…_

For the rest of the lesson, no one spoke as they were assigned to brew a simple Sleeping Potion, which presented no problem for Harry. Unfortunately, the fact that he was one of only three people to get it perfect caused Snape to accuse Harry of cheating. Harry lost yet another five points, as did Hermione Granger of Gryffindor.

There was a predictable outcry from the Gryffindors concerning this injustice against one of their own, but what really surprised Snape was the reaction of three of his Slytherins, one being the third person who had got the potion right. _I'll have to keep an eye on those three, especially the Zabini boy,_ thought Snape as he dismissed the class. _The last thing I need is for James Potter's son to reform The Marauders in MY house. The Gryffindor one can do what he likes, but young Harry will toe the line or suffer…_

XxXxXxXxXxX

"G-good m-m-morning, c-class," stuttered Professor Quirrell the next day as the first year Slytherins had their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson.

As the Professor stuttered his way through the usual welcome to their first welcome and an explanation of what the subject entailed, Harry started to feel slightly bored. _Damn, I was so looking forward to Defence Against the Dark Arts!_ thought Harry angrily. _I thought this was supposed to be a practical subject, not some boring one where all we do is bookwork._

He tried to calm himself down a bit and try to look at it from the point of view of someone else. For example, Roger, being a Muggle-born would have had no knowledge of the magical world until maybe a month ago, so all this would be new to him and to others like him. _So why does Roger look as bored as I do?_ Harry wondered. _Don't tell me he's been reading ahead._

The lesson proceeded slowly. It wasn't long before Blaise and Spencer joined Harry and Roger in a collective feeling of boredom.

"Merlin, he's just like Binns!" mumbled Blaise. "Only this guy stutters on just about every word."

"I am so gonna kill Nathan," muttered Spencer angrily. "He told me Defence Against the Dark Arts was one of the best subjects, but so far it's only marginally better than History of Magic. Even Astronomy was better – at least in that, we actually got to do something."

"Give it a chance," whispered Roger. "It might get better. This is only the first lesson after all."

"Why does he keep stuttering on every word?" wondered Harry.

"What?" said Blaise, confused at his friend's seemingly random question.

"He keeps stuttering on just about every single word," muttered Harry. "That's not normal. Most people with stutters only struggle with the first one or two words of a sentence, or the odd long word, but he seems to struggle with every word."

"Maybe it's just a really bad speech impediment," said Roger.

"Maybe," nodded Harry. "But he sounds almost like he's terrified of something."

"Who cares?" said Spencer. "You worry too much, you know that Harry?"

"Only about things that…" Harry stopped and gasped slightly. _What the…?_ he thought as he felt a searing pain in his forehead. He reached up and felt the outline of his scar, trying not to yell out as the pain intensified. _My scar! Why's it hurting?_

"Hal?" whispered Spencer. "You okay?"

"What's wrong?" asked Blaise.

"Maybe we should tell…" began Roger.

"No!" said Harry, a little louder than he intended. "I'm fine," he said as those nearest them turned and glanced at the four of them suspiciously.

"You sure?" said Spencer.

"Yeah," replied Harry. "I'm fine, really."

Roger, Blaise and Spencer all looked at Harry for a few seconds before deciding to leave Harry be. They had only known him a few days, but they knew him well enough to not pursue anything if he didn't want them to. Harry sat back in his chair slightly as the pain began to fade. As he did so, he noticed that though Quirrell was addressing the whole class, the Professor's gaze seemed to be fixed firmly on him and there was something in the man's eyes that Harry didn't like – he could see the hatred mixed in with an equal amount of fear. _But why?_ Harry wondered. _Why's he looking at me like that? And what the hell just happened just now with my scar?_

The second class was dismissed, Harry packed up and left the classroom as quickly as he could.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Welcome to your first flying lesson. I am Madam Hooch and will be instructing you on the basics of Broomstick handling," said Madam Hooch as she welcomed the Gryffindor and Slytherin first years.

Harry wasn't really listening. The pain he had felt in his scar and the look that the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had given him a few hours ago was still fresh in his mind. He had hoped that his first proper flying lesson would take his mind off it, despite the fact that he had performed incredibly well the few times he had had a chance to fly a broom.

So far, it wasn't.

"Now, stand by your brooms and hold out your hand above the broom," instructed Madam Hooch. "When you are ready, say the word 'up'."

After a few seconds, the air was filled with numerous voices saying the word 'up'. Very few seemed to have any success. Harry suppressed a smirk as Ron Weasley's broom shot up and nearly hit him in the nose, while Hermione Granger's broom refused to move in the slightest. Michael however, having played Quidditch a lot more than Harry had, mainly because he was a much better Chaser than Harry, managed to get his broom into his hands with no problems. Annoyed that his brother had done the best so far, Harry simply held out his hand above the broom and it instantly shot up into his waiting hand. Those that saw this stared at Harry incredulously. Among them were Blaise, Spencer and Roger.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Spencer. "How did you…?"

"You… you did it first time!" added Blaise. "Without even having to say anything!"

"Nice one, Harry!" congratulated Roger, whose broom hadn't moved. He looked at his broom with a slightly frustrated look on his face. "I don't suppose you could give any of us any advice, could you?"

Harry paused for a second before speaking. "It's just the same as the Summoning Charm. Just picture the object, in this case the broom, already in your hand."

"But Hal," said Blaise. "Isn't the Summoning Charm a bit, y'know, advanced for us?"

Harry rolled his eyes at this. _Bloody hell, I'm really going to have to introduce them to some more advanced Spellbooks at some point._ "Just trust me," he said. "Summoning Charms are easy, it's just that they're not taught until later on for some reason."

"Well, if you say so Hal," shrugged Spencer.

Taking Harry's advice, the three boys tried again and managed to make their brooms rise to their hands with no problem. However, as they did this, Harry began to notice the murmuring of the others…

"Did you hear that?"

"Yeah. Summoning Charms, easy? Yeah, right."

"He did it wandlessly! Without even saying a word!"

"See? I told you Potter wouldn't be able to resist trying to make himself look good."

"Who does he think he is, showing off like that? At least Michael doesn't feel the need to show off what he can do."

_Probably because he can't actually DO anything!_ Harry wanted to yell back at the Gryffindor girl, who he recognised from the Sorting as Parvati Patil. Instead, Harry closed his eyes and sighed.

Eventually, the lesson moved onto the actual flying of the brooms. Everything seemed to be going well until someone fell off their broom. Harry looked around to see who had fallen, though he had already guessed that he or she was a Gryffindor judging by the sniggering he heard from his fellow Slytherins.

_Oh, I hope it was Michael,_ thought Harry. _That would be just brilliant – 'The Boy-Who-Lived falls off his broom in his first flying lesson_,' _he'd never hear the end of it._ However, Michael was still in the air. _Oh no,_ groaned Harry. _First Potions, now Flying Lessons – nothing ever seems to go right for Neville._

The class were all called back down to the ground as Neville Longbottom was led away to the Hospital Wing by Professor McGonagall and Madam Hooch. However, before she left with Neville, McGonagall gave the rest of the first year students a very serious sounding warning that no one was to even touch a broom until she got back.

Unsurprisingly, once the class was alone, Malfoy began to run his mouth at Neville's expense. Equally as predictably, Michael sprung to Neville's defence in true Gryffindor fashion. As much as Harry got on with Neville whenever their two families got together, Harry decided to stay out of the verbal confrontation, finding that he didn't particularly want to side with either Malfoy or his twin brother. However, when Malfoy picked up a small object off the ground and Harry heard the word 'Remembrall', he instantly knew that, if left up to Michael, Neville would never get his property back.

"Give it back, Malfoy!" shouted Michael as his fellow Gryffindors eyed Malfoy angrily.

"Or what, Potter?" taunted Malfoy. "You think I'm scared of you? You're nothing compared to me."

"Maybe so," said Harry from behind Malfoy. "But that doesn't really mean much. Besides, I'm the one you should worry about, Drakey-boy."

"Is that so!" sneered Malfoy, barely managing to hide his anger. "If you're so great, then come and take it."

Before Harry could do anything, Malfoy had grabbed a nearby broom and taken off. Harry shook his head slightly and smirked. "Running away already? Oh well," he sighed as he held out his hand and summoned another broom and mounted it.

"Harry, don't," said Roger anxiously. "You'll only get…"

But Harry wasn't listening as he took off in pursuit of Malfoy. As he began to catch up with Malfoy, Harry saw a look on Malfoy's face that told him that he hadn't expected Harry to follow him, after all, following Malfoy was something a Gryffindor would do, not a Slytherin. Yet, there Harry was, following Malfoy, fully intending to knock him off his broom as soon as he caught up. However, just as Harry was almost close enough to grab Malfoy, he saw him turn his head and yell "If you want it so bad, then catch!" before seeing him throw the Remembrall towards the ground. For some reason, Harry immediately dived downwards in pursuit of the plummeting Remembrall.

_Why am I doing this?_ he wondered as the ground began to get alarmingly close. _Why am I risking my life for Neville Longbottom's Remembrall?_

Before he could answer either of those questions, Harry felt his hand close around the spherical object and he pulled out of the dive just short of creating a cartoonish Harry-shaped hole in the ground. As Harry quickly flew back to the group, he realised that everyone was staring at him with looks of total shock.

_Oh boy, _sighed Harry as he landed and put the broom down._ More 'Harry the show-off' comments coming up._ He looked around and saw Malfoy standing by Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson and Cuthbert Garrett. _With a side order of pain for Malfoy while we're at it,_ he added as he took a few steps towards them, but before he could do anything unpleasant to Malfoy or his cronies, he was interrupted by a loud and very angry sounding voice yelling his name.

"Harry Potter!!!" yelled McGonagall as she stormed towards the group. "Just what in Merlin's name do you think you are doing?"

"Maybe you should ask Malfoy," muttered Harry, holding up the Remembrall. "He's the one who tried to smash Neville's Remembrall."

McGonagall glared at Harry, then at Malfoy. "Is this true?" she asked the Slytherins forcefully. To no one's surprise, most of them denied it, so McGonagall asked the Gryffindors. Harry watched nervously, wondering whether they would support him or let him get into major trouble. To Harry's relief, the Gryffindors decided to side against Malfoy.

The Gryffindor Head of House turned back to Harry once she heard what had happened.

"Come with me." she commanded.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Professor Snape was not at all happy when the Deputy Headmistress called him to his own office, where he found both McGonagall and Harry Potter.

_I should have known that Potter would be up to no good soon enough,_ he thought irritably when he saw Harry. However, what the Deputy Headmistress told him after he had enquired as to why he had just been made to leave the third year Hufflepuffs on their own intrigued him. _How very Gryffindor of young Potter,_ he thought, wondering if perhaps the Sorting Hat had made a mistake in the case of Harry Potter.

"Well, now that you've heard all the details, I will leave it up to you to decide what should be done about this blatant show of disrespect for authority," said McGonagall.

Curiously, young Potter, rather than looking nervous or ashamed, called after McGonagall as she went to leave. "Give this back to Neville when you see him," he said as he handed what must have been the Remembrall that McGonagall had mentioned.

"Potter," Snape said, once McGonagall had left. "I want you to tell me, in your own words, exactly what happened."

This seemed to surprise the boy slightly, though to his credit, he did a good job hiding it. "Malfoy started making fun of Neville after he was taken to the Hospital Wing, then he found Neville's Remembrall and tried to keep it. My _brother_ tried to get it back by yelling at Malfoy so I decided to step in, but the second I said anything, Malfoy grabbed a broom and took off, daring me to follow, so I did. But when I managed to catch up with him, he tried to smash the Remembrall by throwing it toward the ground, so I dived after it, caught it before it hit the ground and returned to the group with the intention of making Malfoy suffer... sir," he said without any hesitation.

_The intention of making Malfoy suffer?_ Snape mentally repeated to himself. _In all my years, that's the first time someone's ever said anything like that without showing an ounce of fear._ Snape decided to check the boy's story and used his Legilimency to relive the crucial moments, though this only took a few seconds.

_Perhaps this incident can act to our advantage,_ thought Snape as an idea formed within his calculating mind. Snape looked at the boy before him. _He's not like James at all,_ he realised. _Nor is he that much like his mother. He seems to be completely different from anyone else in his family, especially that twin brother of his._

"Ten points will be taken from Slytherin for blatant disregard of a teacher's instructions," he said, expecting some kind of reaction, but not getting one other than a slight nod. "And I would like you to take this note to Marcus Flint." he continued, writing something out on a piece of parchment. "You may read it if you wish, but make sure you report to Flint at five o'clock today." The boy took the note but didn't look at it. _Good,_ thought Snape approvingly. _Never show your curiosity in front of anyone._ "Now get back to your class before I change my mind."

He watched the boy nod slightly before leaving. Again, Snape found himself surprised by the son of James Potter. _Any other person would have stammered the words 'yes sir' and left very quickly, even the majority of my Slytherins, but this boy... Perhaps I should keep a close eye on him from now on._

XxXxXxXxXxX

Harry and his friends sat in the common room in silence – Harry had just told them that he had just been made the new Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team, which was the last thing anyone had expected to hear.

"You know what this means, don't you?" asked Spencer.

"Yeah, Hal," added Blaise. "You're only a first year, but you're now on the Quidditch team."

"Is that unusual?" asked Roger.

Harry nodded. "First years aren't allowed to join the Quidditch teams," he answered.

"But seeing as that rule's just been broken..." started Blaise.

"It means that Hal here is probably one of the youngest Quidditch players in this school's history!" finished Spencer.

Harry couldn't help but grin as Spencer said this. _Well, I didn't expect to outperform Michael QUITE this much, but then again, I've always liked Quidditch when I'm not playing as a Chaser or Keeper… Oh Merlin, I wonder what Dad'll think when he hears about this?_

"So what kind of broom are you gonna get?" asked Blaise. "I mean, you can't use one of the school ones."

"Yeah, Hal," agreed Spencer. "Those old Shooting Stars won't do you much good against the rest of the school. Everyone else'll have Cleansweeps, Comets and Nimbuses."

"What's the difference?" asked Roger, still unfamiliar with many of the things that wizards took for granted. "Between the brooms, I mean."

"Trust me, Rodge," said Spencer. "There's a big difference between different types. Right now, the best broom you can get is the Nimbus 2000. It can reach well over a hundred miles an hour, can do 360 degree turns in the blink of an eye and they're incredibly reliable."

"The Cleansweep Eleven and the Comet 300 aren't too bad either, plus they tend to be cheaper," said Blaise.

"But the new Nimbus 2001 that's supposed to be coming out next year is supposed to be the best yet," said Spencer enthusiastically.

_Oh, I wish I'd paid more attention to Dad and Michael whenever they talked about Quidditch, _thought Harry as he listened to his two friends discussing brooms while Roger just sat there listening carefully and trying to decipher their words.

"So what kind of broom are you thinking of getting, Harry?" asked Spencer once he and Blaise had finished discussing the merits of Comets, Cleansweeps and Nimbuses.

"Depends on my Dad really," shrugged Harry. "Somehow I doubt he'll be too willing to buy a broom for Slytherin's new Seeker. If I were in Gryffindor, then maybe, but Slytherin? Not a chance."

"Why does he hate Slytherins?" asked Roger. "He doesn't think we're all like Malfoy, Garrett and the rest, does he?"

"Most people do," muttered Blaise.

"Including my parents," added Spencer. "I got a letter from them saying how disappointed they were that I'd broken family tradition, seeing as every other Westwood that's come to Hogwarts has been a Hufflepuff."

"But why all this fuss about houses?" asked Roger incredulously.

"Some people think that all members of a certain house are a certain thing," said Harry. "Because Gryffindor's favoured trait is courage, all members of Gryffindor are supposedly brave and just. In other words, they're the good guys. Hufflepuffs are seen as mediocre because loyalty and hard work aren't seen as being as important as the other houses' perceived qualities. Ravenclaw favours intelligence, therefore all Ravenclaws are bookworms. All of those houses are perfectly acceptable to most people though – it's Slytherin that's the problem for most."

"Why?" asked Roger.

"We're supposed to be evil," answered Spencer.

Harry nodded. "Ambition and cunning are seen as selfish traits, therefore all Slytherins are selfish, and because most of the pure-blood fanatics end up in Slytherin, that makes us all nasty, selfish, bigoted racists," he elaborated. "Not that most people can talk. I mean, just look at the way most people regard Squibs, Werewolves, Half-breeds, sentient Magical Creatures and especially Parselmouths."

"Parselmouths?" said Spencer. "But I thought they actually were inherently evil."

"Is that so?" Harry responded in a tone of voice that told the others that there was more to this than they were seeing.

"Well… the Dark Lord was a parseltongue, wasn't he?" stammered Blaise. "That's what my parents told me anyway."

"You're parents?" exclaimed Spencer. "How would they know?"

"They're friendly with people with the Malfoys and the Garretts, remember?" said Blaise quickly. "They agree with the whole 'pure-blood superiority' thing, even though they didn't actually become Death Eaters," he added for the benefit of the others.

"What are…?" Roger began to ask.

"Supporters of Voldemort," muttered Harry. "Oh for crying out loud, Spence, it's just a name – a stupid one at that. I mean, I could probably think of a better 'evil' name that that!" he said loudly, causing several nearby Slytherins to look up to see what the fuss was all about.

"Keep your voice down!" hissed Blaise.

Harry nodded slightly. "Sorry," he said apologetically.

"Don't worry about it," mumbled Spencer. Suddenly, he grinned. "Alright then, go on – make up a name."

"What?" said Harry, surprised by Spencer's sudden change of mood.

"Yeah, Hal," said Blaise. "After all, we are nasty evil Slytherins, so we should all probably come up with 'Dark Lord' type names, just in case."

"You what?" exclaimed Roger, failing to recognise the sarcasm in Blaise's voice. "What do you mean 'just in case'? None of us are going to become Dark Lords!"

"Well, if Spence's right and that Parselmouths are evil, then I probably will." Harry interjected before he could stop himself. _Oh bugger! Why did I just say that?_

Blaise and Spencer all stared at Harry, completely stunned, while Roger simply wondered what a Parselmouth actually was.

"You…" stammered Spencer after a long silence. "You're a… a Parseltongue?"

"I think so," nodded Harry. "There was this one time a snake told me to 'watch where I was going' when I nearly trod on it while I was wandering through Gryffindor Forest."

"It spoke to you?" said Roger. "You can speak to animals?

"Just snakes," explained Blaise. "That's what a Parselmouth is – someone who can talk to snakes."

"Cool," said Roger. "So what else did this snake say?"

"Well, it seemed awfully surprised when I apologised, then complimented me on my politeness before slithering off somewhere," replied Harry. "At first I thought I'd just imagined it, but then I accidentally freed a snake from it's container in Bristol Zoo and it thanked me as it made its desperate bid for freedom."

There was another long silence between the four boys.

"Um… Harry," said Blaise cautiously. "You wouldn't…"

"Nope," interrupted Harry, correctly anticipating what Blaise was going to say. "Besides, I'm probably nowhere selfish enough to be a Dark Lord bent on world domination."

Surprisingly, this was all that Harry's friends seemed to need as far as assurances were concerned and the conversation quickly returned to the subject of Quidditch.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Two days later, Harry was shocked to find that a parcel had arrived for him – from his father.

_What on earth… _Harry thought as he stared at the elongated package he had just placed on his bed. _There's no way! I haven't even told them yet, _he thought as he picked up the accompanying letter and opened it.

_Harry_

_Michael wrote and told me about what happened and about you becoming Slytherin's new Seeker. Now I know that you've never been the type to actually ask for anything, but even if you will be playing for Slytherin, I knew that you would need a decent broom – consider it an apology for that Howler I sent you._

_Do us proud Harry, though in many ways, you already have._

_Dad._

Harry re-read the letter another three times, scarcely daring to believe it. _Dad brought a broom – for me? Even though I'm a 'nasty Slytherin'!_ He looked at the package again. _I wonder what kind he means when he says 'a decent broom'? _Harry wondered as he reached out and began to undo the packaging. However, the surprise that Harry felt about his Dad actually buying him a broom was nothing to the surprise he felt when he actually got a good look at the broom itself.

Just then, Roger, Spencer and Blaise all entered the dorm. "There you are," said Blaise. "We were beginning to wonder where…" He stopped suddenly as the three boys spotted the broom on Harry's bed. "Is that a…" began Blaise.

"It can't be…" continued Spencer.

"I think it is…" said Blaise.

"Is it?" asked Spencer.

Harry grinned and nodded. "This, gentlemen, is a Nimbus 2000," he said. "My very own Nimbus 2000."

-

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Well, I'm certainly glad that my take on 'Slytherin/Brother of BWL' Harry is going down well. I guess that's proof positive that you don't need to make Harry's parents into Dursley-a-likes for these kinds of stories.

**Concerning The soon-to-be Guys – **Just thought I'd give you an idea about what the OC Guys are meant to be like…

ROGER APPLEBY – As W-Z-D-H mentioned, Roger is partially based on Lupin, in that he's a bit of book-worm. He also has a bit of Hermione Granger in him (Again, book-worm tendencies as well as Muggle-born heritage) and Peter Pettigrew (Appearance-wise & perceived status within The Guys by others, but not the figure of fun for the others like Wormtail was.) In short, Rodge could be described as "the smart, quiet one" (though not that quiet).

BLAISE ZABINI – Appearance from a combination of Canon and Fanon. Is a version of Blaise that started out not agreeing with the 'pure-blood' ideology but, unlike Canon, not forced to conform. "The cool one."

SPENCER WESTWOOD – "The loud, fun-loving, cool one". Combination of James Potter & Sirius Black, minus the over-inflated egos.

**Concerning Harry & ? – **I've already made a decision on who Slytherin Harry ends up with, though we probably won't see much of her for a while. You'll probably never guess in a million years, but I'll give you a hint – she's already been mentioned at least once.

I was hoping to get this posted on Hogmanay, but I guess New Year's Day doesn't make too much of a difference. A Happy New Year to one and all.


	4. Halloween Weekend

**SUMMARY**

Harry James Potter is the only person to have ever survived the Avada Kedavra curse. Unfortunately, his twin brother, Michael Stephen Potter, mistakenly proclaimed as the Boy-Who-Lived'. As he grows up, Harry becomes withdrawn and distant from his family. However, when Harry and Michael receive their Hogwarts letters, Harry sees it as a chance to finally prove to himself and to everyone else who the true 'Boy-Who-Lived' is…

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see. Also thanks to those who have encouraged this spin-off the 'The Lone Traveller'

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER FOUR – Halloween Weekend.**

"_If you want it so bad, then catch!_"_ yelled the blond haired boy as he hurled the Remembrall towards the ground. Within a few seconds, Harry was diving towards the spherical object as it plummeted earthwards. _

"_What the fuck am I doing?_"_ he asked himself as he began to close in on the falling Remembrall. _"_Why am I risking my life for a bloody Remembrall?_"

"_Because you'd never hear the end of it if it got smashed and you did nothing about it,_" _answered a voice in Harry's mind._

"_But it could easily be replaced,_" _replied Harry._ "_I mean, surely a Remembrall doesn't cost that much, does it? Surely my well-being's worth more than a Remembrall, right?_"

"_What?_" _yelled an indignant voice. _"_Of course you're worth more than a Remembrall!_"

"_For crying out loud, Harry,_" _yelled another. _"_Think about what you're doing. I mean, you're a Slytherin for Merlin's sake. You know that a Slytherin would never do something like this…_"

"_Yeah,_" _retorted Harry sarcastically. _"_Because we all know that all Slytherins are selfish and never do anything for anyone other than themselves…_"

_As Harry's hand closed around the Remembrall, the dream ended._

XxXxXxXxXxX

Harry opened his eyes and sat up slightly in his bed. He looked at his watch on the bedside table and, despite not having his glasses on, saw that it was not quite seven in the morning. Harry grabbed his glasses and put them on before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up. The others were still asleep, so Harry decided to get dressed quietly then wait for the others down in the common room, though being a Saturday he would probably have to wait a little while.

As Harry went to leave, he turned around and glanced briefly at the brand new Nimbus 2000 sitting on top of his trunk – even now, he still couldn't quite believe that it was his. _I still don't understand why he bought it for me,_ thought Harry as he left the dorm and started walking down the stairs as quietly as he could. _Do they honestly think sending me a broom and a few letters saying they're 'proud' of me are gonna make me feel any differently about them? _Harry thought to himself. _I mean, all this has come on a bit suddenly, hasn't it? _

He emerged into the common room, where he went over to the unlit fireplace and sat down in one of the armchairs. He unfolded the letter he had grabbed from his bedside table on his way out and sat there, reading it.

"Whatever you do, your father and I are very proud of you…" he muttered to himself. "If we've ever made you feel inferior in any way, then I am very sorry… I love you and am very proud of you – nothing will ever change that…"

"Talking to yourself, Potter?" Harry heard a voice say from nearby.

"What d'you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked venomously.

"Oh, nothing…" mumbled Malfoy, before quickly drawing his wand. "Accio parchment!"

Before Harry had any time to react, the letter flew from his hand and ended up in Malfoy's.

"What's this, Potter?" sneered Malfoy. "Fan-mail for your brother that got lost?" He unfolded it and began to read it. "Oho! A letter from darling mummy. What's wrong? Is insignificant little Harry Potter feeling homesick?"

Inside, Harry was seething with rage, but he hid it very well. _I suppose I should warn him and give him a chance first_,he thought. "Give it back, Malfoy," said Harry in a voice devoid of any obvious emotion. "Trust me, you'll be much better off if you just give it back now. Besides, there aren't any brooms around for you to run away on."

"Shut up, Potter!" shouted Malfoy, not bothering to hide his anger. "You have no right to talk to someone of my breeding…"

"You mean, 'in-breeding', right?" interrupted Harry, scathingly.

"Why you…" yelled Malfoy, drawing his wand.

As he did this, Harry held out his hand and muttered "Accio Wand." Malfoy's wand instantly flew from his hand into Harry's. Harry looked the wand and smirked at a furious Malfoy. "Tell ya what Drakey-boy," he said. "Swap you your wand for my letter. Fair enough?"

Malfoy looked at Harry and the wand with a look that would have terrified a Dragon, but crumpled up the letter and threw it to the floor. Harry reached out with his other hand and summoned it, while tossing Malfoy's wand in the boy's general direction. He watched as Malfoy caught it, ready for any hexes Draco decided to throw at him. Fortunately, it didn't come to that as Malfoy glared at Harry before storming up the staircase to his own dorm.

Harry un-crumpled the letter and smoothed it out. _What the hell was that all about? _he wondered as he looked at the near two month old letter from his mother. _Why did I just make such a fuss over this letter? First Neville's Remembrall, now this. _He looked toward the staircase, trying to make a connection between the two incidents – something that would explain his irrational, almost Gryffindor-like behaviour. After sitting back down and thinking about it, he realised that there actually was one thing the two incidents had in common – Malfoy, or more specifically, his attitude and behaviour. Now he thought about it, it was also the same reason he had stunned Cuthbert, who had pretty much kept to himself when they were all in the dorm together, on that first night at Hogwarts just under two months ago. Every time he heard anyone being insulted for no good reason, he found himself wishing he could do something about it, even if it was just hexing them or something. No one should ever have to be discriminated against just for not being what others want them to be. Harry knew what that was like only to well. Not only was his own godfather discriminated against for something that wasn't his fault, but he himself had been discriminated against in some form or another in favour of Michael, just because someone else said that Michael was the 'Boy-Who-Lived' and that Harry wasn't.

Harry leaned back in his chair and sighed – something told him that he wasn't going to enjoy the rest of Halloween.

XxXxXxXxXxX

As the Halloween Feast got underway later that day, Harry just couldn't get into the spirit of things – something just wasn't right.

Harry glanced across the hall at the Gryffindor table, where he saw Michael busy talking to his fellow Gryffindors, though he noticed that Hermione Granger wasn't among them. Meanwhile, everyone else in the Great Hall, including the teachers, were enjoying themselves – everyone that is, but Quirrell, who was not present, to Harry's relief. However, no matter how much everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves, Harry just couldn't relax. _What the hell's wrong with me?_ he wondered furiously. _It's Halloween. I'm supposed to be enjoying myself, but I've been on edge since this morning. Why can't I just relax?_

"So what d'you reckon, Hal?" Harry heard Spencer ask him.

"Huh?" said Harry as he turned to face his friends.

Spencer looked at him quizzically. "Have you even been listening?" he asked.

"Sorry," mumbled Harry. "I was just thinking about something."

"Well, anyway," said Spencer, continuing the conversation. "I reckon we need a name for ourselves, like the Marauders."

"Marauders?" queried Roger.

"My Dad and his friends," answered Harry. "Basically, they were four friends who were infamous for their pranks."

"But we're not pranksters," Roger pointed out.

"Plus, we're not Gryffindors," added Harry. "Besides, my Dad would probably kill me if a bunch of Slytherins started using his own friend's collective name."

"It wouldn't be very original to call ourselves the 'New Marauders' or something like that either," agreed Blaise. "We should come up with our own name. Hold on, how about 'The Untouchables'?"

Spencer nodded slightly. "Very Slytherin, I suppose."

"But a bit boastful for us," said Harry.

"How about something like 'The Outsiders'?" suggested Roger. "I mean, that's what we are as far as most Slytherins are concerned."

"I dunno," mumbled Spencer. "It doesn't feel quite right."

"Well, it's the best idea we've had so far," commented Blaise.

"I suppose we can put that name on the 'maybe' list," said Harry. "If we are going to give ourselves a group name, it should be something that sounds innocent – something that won't get us any unwanted attention from the pure-blood fanatics or the teachers."

"I don't suppose you have any ideas, do you Hal?" asked Spencer.

Before Harry could answer, everyone's attention was brought to the figure that had just stormed into the Great Hall, looking absolutely terrified.

"T-troll in the D-dungeons!" Quirrell managed to splutter. "Just thought you ought to know," he added as he fainted.

Within seconds, the Great Hall was engulfed in panic, that is, until order was restored by the Headmaster, who promptly ordered that all students were to return to their common rooms immediately.

"All first years, follow me!" Harry heard Jonas Rockford yell.

"C'mon, Hal," said Blaise quickly. "Let's go."

Harry didn't move. "Something's wrong," he muttered.

"Well, duh!" exclaimed Roger. "Last I heard, Trolls're supposed to be really big and dangerous!"

"C'mon, Harry!" said Spencer as he dragged Harry to his feet. "Move it!"

Reluctantly, Harry followed his friends and the other first years as they were all ushered back to their common room, however, something made him stay at the back of the group. _There's more to this than we're seeing_,_ I just know it? But what? What's really going on here?_ he wondered. His thoughts were interrupted as he began to feel his scar hurting again. _Now what? _thought Harry irritably. _As if things aren't bad enough alrea…_

Suddenly, Harry saw something, like a vision but… different. It was more like a memory, or something being seen through someone else's eyes. He was running along a corridor he didn't recognise, looking for something. After a few seconds, he heard someone cursing as he saw a figure standing near a doorway. _Wait a minute! Is that… _

However, before Harry could ascertain the identity of the mysterious figure, another set of images flashed before his eyes – a Troll with a very large club. A terrified girl huddled in the corner of a toilet cubicle, screaming. Two boys trying desperately to distract the Troll away from the girl.

The images only lasted a few seconds and when they ended, Harry found himself standing in the middle of a corridor, having been left behind by the others. "Michael," he muttered as he recognised one of the boys in his 'vision', for lack of a better word. "You fucking idiot! What the hell are you thinking?"

Even though he wasn't exactly sure where they were, Harry promptly turned around and started heading in the opposite direction. He kept walking until he found himself outside the girls' toilet on the second floor.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Look out!" yelled Ron, as the Troll swung its club in Michael's general direction. Unfortunately, it was too late for Michael to get out of the way as he was sent flying into a nearby wall by a glancing blow.

"Michael!" Ron yelled, distracted slightly as he saw this, just enough for the troll to nearly crush him with a downward swipe of the club. _Bloody Hell! What're we going to do?_

"Conjunctiva!" yelled a voice suddenly. A pink beam of light blasted from the doorway and hit the Troll in one of its eyes, causing it to roar in pain and swing it's club around in anger, though there was little danger of it hitting anything.

"Harry?" groaned Michael as he attempted to get to his feet. His twin brother said nothing as he entered the toilets, wand pointed straight at the Troll and a blank, yet furious expression on his face.

"Diffindo!" Harry shouted, ignoring his brother and advancing toward the Troll. The Troll roared again as the powerful cutting curse tore a gash in its arm. "Diffindo!" Again, the Troll roared in pain as a more powerful than usual cutting curse tore a gash, this time in its torso. Enraged, the troll swung its club at a still advancing Harry. "Incendio!" he then yelled, causing the Troll's club to ignite in it's hand. Howling as the fire burnt it's hand, the Troll dropped it's club. "Bombarda!" shouted Harry, making the Troll stagger backwards as it was struck by an unseen force.

"Harry!" gasped Michael, who was struggling to stay on his feet. "Stop! Please…" he pleaded as he realised that his brother had no intention of stopping.

"Flagrate!" Harry continued. The Troll howled again as a painful looking burn mark appeared on its chest. However, Trolls were well known for their lack of intelligence – any other creature would have backed down or attempted to flee at this point, but Trolls never did. Instead, the Troll, despite all the pain it was in at this point, lunged forward at Harry.

"Reducto!" Harry yelled at the top of his lungs. Immediately, the Troll howled unnaturally as its body was thrown backwards by a powerful blast. Within seconds, it dropped to the floor, partially incinerated – dead.

Harry lowered his wand and stood there for a few seconds. However, he began to falter and crumpled to his knees, trying desperately to stay conscious while his brother and Ron stared at him and Hermione let out a sob at the sight of the Troll's remains. He suddenly heard several urgent sounding voices entering the bathroom as he faded into unconsciousness.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Michael," Harry heard a voice in the darkness say. "I need you to tell me exactly what happened, in your own words."

"Haven't Ron and Hermione already…" protested the voice of his brother.

"Yes, Michael, they have." said the vaguely familiar voice. "But I want you to tell me as well."

_Dumbledore,_ thought Harry, finally recognising the voice of the Hogwarts Headmaster as Michael paused before telling Dumbledore about how Harry had entered the girls' toilet and cast a steady stream of powerful spells at the Troll, killing it in the process, before collapsing once it was dead. Harry couldn't help but picture the look on the old man's face as Michael listed the spells Harry had used.

"But Professor," Michael said suddenly. "What about his eyes?"

"What about them, my boy?" asked Dumbledore.

"I dunno. There was just something about them. They…" stammered Michael. "They… he just seemed so… angry."

Harry lay there, wherever it was he was lying, eyes still closed, listening as Michael described how he had relentlessly cursed the Troll and about the look that had supposedly been in his eyes. As Michael said this, Harry wondered just what had made him so angry when he got there. It hadn't been that he'd been angry at the Troll for trying to kill Michael and the others, he knew that much, but something else – he'd been angry at the Troll for being there. Not for being in the school, but for being THERE, in the girls' toilets on the second floor, the one he knew that no one went in because of a ghost that haunted it.

_What the hell is going on with me?_ wondered Harry furiously. _Ever since I got here, I've been doing stuff I'd never have dreamed of doing before. First, I risk ploughing myself into the ground for the sake of saving Neville Longbottom's Remembrall, then I make a fuss over a letter I got two months ago and almost know off by heart and now I brutally slaughter a Troll just for being in THAT girls' toilet. _

Harry paused as he tried to remember what he had felt as he hexed the troll. He recognised the feeling of indignation, though he had no idea why he should be so angry, after all, he had never even been in any girls' toilets, let alone that one. But something about being in there had made him feel something else. It was almost as if he was meant to be in there. _In a girls' toilet?_ thought Harry incredulously as he pondered while Dumbledore finished speaking to Michael. He heard the headmaster get up and take a few steps before asking "How is young Harry?"

Another voice, that of a woman, replied. "Oh, he should be fine Headmaster. He was just drained a bit, though from what his brother has just said, I'm not surprised. All he really needs is some rest."

"Then it would be okay if I were to awaken him," asked the voice of Dumbledore.

Taking his cue, Harry opened his eyes but didn't move. As he heard Dumbledore approached him, Harry moved his head slightly, indicating that he was awake. "Ah, you're awake," he heard Dumbledore say. "How do you feel, my boy?"

Harry sat up slightly and saw that, as he had suspected, he was in the Hospital Wing and, standing before him, was the bearded, bespectacled figure of Albus Dumbledore. He looked around slightly, feigning confusion. "How long was I…?"

"Only a few hours, dear boy." replied Dumbledore.

_Dear boy?_ Harry thought with slight annoyance. _Who does he think he is, my grandfather?_ "Oh," he said in response.

Dumbledore conjured a chair and sat down beside Harry's bed. "Now, my boy, I…" Dumbledore began.

"Harry," interrupted Harry. "My name's Harry."

"Oh. Yes, of course," said Dumbledore, slightly taken aback at the obvious hostility in the boy's voice. "Now, Harry, perhaps you should tell me your side of the story. Do you remember what happened?"

"You mean with the Troll?" Harry queried.

"Yes," confirmed Dumbledore. "Can you tell me what happened? Why you were there, for example."

Harry paused for a second, trying to think of something. He couldn't tell him about any of the visions, unless he actually wanted even more questions to come his way. "I, well, I just… had a feeling that something was wrong." He glanced over at Michael for the first time. _God, he looks a right mess!_ thought Harry as he regarded his well bandaged twin. _I suppose it's lucky for him I showed up when I did._

Dumbledore nodded slightly and muttered something about 'the bond between twins'. Harry tried not to roll his eyes at this. "Um, Professor, is there actually any need for me to be here? I mean, I feel fine and…"

"Yes, yes, I believe that Madam Pomfrey is ready to discharge you if you wish to leave," said Dumbledore with a hint of uncharacteristic impatience in his voice. "However, I do have one question."

Harry tried not to sigh as he braced himself.

"Is it true that you were able to perform cutting curses powerful enough to penetrate the Troll's hide? As well as…"

"Yes," Harry interrupted irritably. "And before you say anything, no, I wasn't showing off."

The old man's expression turned to one of undeniable surprise – he hadn't been expecting that outburst.

Harry watched the man give him a look of sympathy, glad that even Dumbledore could be fooled by his cunning ploys. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I… get the whole 'he knows his stuff, therefore he's showing off' rubbish a lot."

Dumbledore nodded, understanding what Harry was talking about. Neither of them had missed the comments Harry got from many of the other students. "Ah, yes, I can imagine how that would test one's patience." He looked at Harry with untwinkling eyes. "Very well, Harry. You may return to your common room."

Harry got off the uncomfortable bed and mumbled a "Thanks Professor," before turning to leave.

As he watched Harry leave the Hospital Wing without even glancing at his injured twin brother, Albus Dumbledore had a very troubled look on his face as he was reminded of another Slytherin he had once taught…

XxXxXxXxXxX

When Harry entered the Slytherin common room, he found Blaise, Roger and Spencer sitting beside one of the fireplaces, waiting for him.

"Harry!" exclaimed Roger as he spotted his friend coming towards them.

"Hal! Are you okay?" asked Spencer urgently. "What happened? Is it true? Did you really take down that Troll single-handedly?"

Harry nodded but said nothing.

"You… took on a Troll all by yourself?" stammered Blaise. The others gaped at Harry, their mouths almost open.

"I suppose I'd better explain…" mumbled Harry as he sat down on one of the emerald green armchairs and began to tell them about the 'visions' he'd had and how he'd thrown a flurry of spells at the Troll, before being forced to kill it when it lunged at him, though missing out the unexplainable feelings he had had throughout.

_Well, that went better than I thought it would, _thought Harry, as the four friends made their way up the stairs to their dorm quarter of an hour later. Indeed, rather than make a huge fuss about how irresponsible he had been or something along those lines, they had all, Roger included, been very impressed.

"How do you know so many spells?"

"Man, Harry, you rule!"

"And you didn't even have to dodge or anything? Bloody hell!"

"Good thing you're on our side, eh Hal?"

None of them seemed to have any major problem with Harry killing the Troll, mainly because it could easily have killed Michael and his friends, though Roger did wonder out loud if it had really been necessary to kill it. The four boys entered their dorm, ignoring Cuthbert, who was already asleep in his bed, and began to get ready for bed themselves. A few minutes later, the four boys were in their beds.

_Oh, what a wonderful Halloween I've just had,_ Harry thought sarcastically.However, despite being unconscious for 'a few hours', Harry couldn't stay awake for much longer and quickly fell asleep.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The next day, at the combined urging of Roger, Blaise, Spencer, as well as Daphne and Christine when they overheard, Harry visited his brother, who was still in the Hospital Wing.

_This is a really bad idea_,thought Harry as he entered the ward. _I'm probably the last person he wants to see right now._ He approached the bed in which Michael was sitting up in, looking absolutely miserable. Sure enough, Harry's twin didn't seem too pleased to see him.

"Come to gloat, have you?" mumbled Michael.

_Patience, Harry_, he thought, reminding himself that his brother was probably still hurting and would probably be impatient with him. "I just though I should come and see how you were doing." said Harry.

Michael gave his brother a disbelieving snort. "Sure you did." He paused slightly. "Sorry," he mumbled quietly. "I…"

"Don't worry about it," said Harry, dismissing his brother's apology. He sat down on the chair beside Michael and the two brothers talked for the first time since they came to Hogwarts. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before the conversation took a turn for the worse.

"But why did you kill it?" Michael asked in a quiet voice as the topic turned to the matter of the previous day's events. "There was no need to kill it." He stopped and looked at Harry suspiciously. "Why were you even there? I mean, risking your life by taking on a Mountain Troll isn't a very Slytherin thing to do, so why did you help us?"

Harry eyed his twin in disbelief. "What d'you mean 'why did I help you'?" he exclaimed. "Did I really need a reason?"

"But you hate me!" shouted Michael. "You've always hated me for being the Boy-Who-Lived! What, you think people'll hero worship you for saving me? Is that why you've learnt all those fancy spells that you're always showing off with? And you becoming Seeker…"

"Don't you dare accuse me of being a show-off just because you're as mundane as anyone else in this school!" yelled Harry, incensed at the fact that even his own brother believed him to be some sort of egotistical show-off.

"I am not mundane!" Michael shouted back. "You're just obsessed with being better than me!"

"Well at least people know who I am based on things I've actually done, unlike you!" Harry bellowed loudly.

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey, who had overheard the argument, stormed out of her office with an undeniably annoyed expression on her face. "Out!" she cried before Michael could say anything else. "Go on, get out, if you insist having an argument!"

Harry scowled, but turned to leave. As he reached the door, he paused and turned around. "One last thing," he said, waving his hand in Michael's direction. Suddenly, a bubble of water appeared above Michael and fell on top of him, completely drenching him as Harry left the Hospital Wing with a smirk on his face.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"So how'd it go?" asked Blaise when Harry re-entered the Slytherin common room. "Is he okay?"

"I should have let that bloody Troll kill him," growled Harry.

"Harry!" exclaimed Daphne Greengrass, who, along with Christine Morgan, was sitting with Roger, Spencer and Blaise. "How can you say such a thing?"

"Quite easily, especially since that ungrateful prick accused me of showing off by saving him and his friends!" snapped Harry. "Next thing we know, he'll be telling everyone I was the one that let the bloody thing in here in the first place!"

"You're kidding!" Spencer almost roared. "He thinks you were showing off?"

"What on earth made him think that?" asked Roger.

"How on earth could he think that would be a better question!" interjected Blaise. "Honestly, Hal, did he really accuse you of showing off."

"Yeah," nodded Harry. "That, and say that I probably only saved him because I'm jealous of him and just wanted attention!"

"That's terrible!" cried Daphne. "What kind of brother is he?"

"But I thought he was supposed to be the saviour of the wizarding world!" added Christine. "How can the saviour of the wizarding world be so stupid?"

"I AM NOT STUPID!" yelled Harry, forgetting that he officially wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived and that Christine was talking about Michael.

The two girls looked at him, stunned. _Oh, crap!_ Harry cursed mentally as he realised what he had just implied by his outburst. The remaining three boys looked at him, probably trying not to cringe.

Blaise sighed. "I guess you'd better tell them, Hal,"

"And hope you can convince them," added Spencer.

Harry looked at Spencer curiously. "Does that mean you believe me now?"

Spencer nodded. "Every time you do something like wandless stuff and knowing stuff before we're even taught it confirms it for me. I mean, if all that doesn't prove you're more powerful than Michael, then I don't know what will…"

"Um… Harry," said Roger quietly, nodding at the two girls, who were still standing there dumbstruck. "Maybe we should tell them, like, now."

Harry glanced at Daphne & Christine and nodded. The four boys sat down at the nearest group of sofas and armchairs and waited for the two girls to follow suit before Harry began to explain about he was most definitely the real Boy-Who-Lived. After he told them of his memories that Halloween night ten years before, the questions came, most of them being the same ones Roger, Blaise and Spencer had asked.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Harry?" said Roger as the four boys sat in their dorm, Cuthbert being elsewhere as always. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Harry nodded. "I'm fine."

"You sure, Hal?" said Blaise. "It's just that you seem distracted lately, ever since you were made Seeker."

"Yeah, I know," mumbled Harry. "Merlin knows why though. It's just that after a while, I started feeling uneasy, like there's something I'm supposed to know but I don't for some reason." He shook his head and sighed. "Maybe this place is messing with my head."

"Or maybe you're just nervous about your first Quidditch match next weekend," suggested Spencer.

"Next weekend?" said Harry. "Damn, is it really that close?"

"Yup," responded Spencer.

Blaise smirked slightly at Harry's expression. "Don't tell me the mighty Dark Lord Maarek is nervous about a game of Quidditch."

"Indeed, I am not Lord Conflagros," replied Harry.

"Out of interest Hal, how exactly did you come up with 'Maarek' again?" asked Roger suddenly.

"Apparently, 'Maarek' is Goblin for 'Fury'," replied Harry. "You have to admit though, it doesn't sound anywhere near as daft as 'Voldemort'."

"Well, at least it sounds better than 'Conflagros'," admitted Blaise.

"Yeah, but that one makes sense for you," said Spencer. "Y'know, Blaise, Blaze, fire, conflagration, Conflagros."

"Shame we can't do that kind of thing with our names though," noted Roger.

"Good point. Doesn't matter though, we'll both come up with our own 'Dark Lord' names eventually, though I've no idea why we're even bothering," nodded Spencer. "Hold on, how about…"

However, before Spencer could make his suggestion, they heard someone coming up the stairs. "Cuthbert," muttered Blaise as the four friends stopped talking, hoping that Garrett wouldn't come in and deride Roger's Muggle heritage as he usually did. Fortunately, the constantly sneering boy didn't say anything as he came in and got ready for bed.

Though Harry appeared to have calmed down since he had come into the common room several hours ago, he was still furious at his brother as he lay in his bed after the lights had been extinguished. _I still can't believe he actually had the nerve to call me a show-off! _he thought angrily. _Just because he struggles in class and I don't doesn't mean I'm a show-off. Merlin, it's a good thing Mum & Dad didn't come for a visit, otherwise he might've… _Suddenly, he felt yet another twinge in his scar. Trying not to make a sound, he reached up and pressed his hand against his forehead, though he knew it wouldn't, and didn't, do much good.

_Why does this keep happening? _he wondered, his frustration growing every time this happened. _I haven't been able to find anything on curse scars hurting like this, but then again, this is a one-of-a-kind curse scar, so I have no way of knowing what's causing it or what I can do about it. _

Soon, the pain had stopped and Harry was able to relax and finally go to sleep.

-

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Remember this chapter. It's very important for later on.

**IP82** – As you can probably see from this chapter, the whole 'Slytherin acting like a Gryffindor' thing in Chapter 3 happened for a reason, though I'm sorry to say, we won't actually get any real confirmation until second year and beyond.

**Dumbledore – **While this story does follow canon to a certain extent (Quirrell, the Remembrall – albeit for different reasons in this fic, etc) there will be a lot of differences once this story really gets going. All the pre-Lone Traveller's visit chapters are really meant to fill the gaps and help set up for after the visit. Hopefully, the unanswered questions from this chapter will help make these first few chapters, and the story overall, more interesting.

**Chiara Crawford – **Snape will be the same as canon/LoneTraveller (I haven't really explained Snape's part in LT's past, only that Snape supplied the poison used to kill Hermione, Snape killed Ron, then LT Harry killed Snape). The whole point of him making Harry Seeker is because he's a Slytherin and is willing to use people to his advantage (i.e. use Harry to help Slytherin win the Quidditch Cup), NOT out of the goodness of his heart.

**AnnF – **Thanks for pointing out the mistake. It's now been corrected.

**Japanese Jew – **Thanks for pointing that out. I'll try and remember it next time I write a 'Legilimency' scene.

**Soiel – **Don't worry, there's a reason Dumbledore's so sure that the Boy-Who-Lived is Michael.

**Concerning Harry's future partner – **It's not Hermione and it's most certainly NOT Pansy Parkinson. There have been some quite good guesses though.

I'm getting all my information on spells from Wikipedia, so don't blame me if any are wrong.


	5. Well Warranted Worries

**SUMMARY**

Harry James Potter is the only person to have ever survived the Avada Kedavra curse. Unfortunately, his twin brother, Michael Stephen Potter, mistakenly proclaimed as the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. As he grows up, Harry becomes withdrawn and distant from his family. However, when Harry and Michael receive their Hogwarts letters, Harry sees it as a chance to finally prove to himself and to everyone else who the true 'Boy-Who-Lived' is…

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

This website – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see. Also thanks to those who have encouraged this spin-off the 'The Lone Traveller'

J.K. Rowling – They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER FIVE – Well Warranted Worries.**

Harry and Michael had now been at Hogwarts for two months, but Lily Potter was now worried about her two sons, particularly Harry, more than she had been when they had first gone there.

A few weeks ago, Harry had become the youngest Quidditch player in over a century – James had been torn between pride and disappointment, before being persuaded that it really didn't matter that Harry was a Slytherin – but what troubled Lily was what Harry had done that had got him noticed. She would have expected Michael to do something dangerously stupid, but Harry? Why would he risk his life for an enchanted object that belonged to Neville Longbottom? Though the Potters and Longbottoms had always been friends, Harry and Neville had never been good friends as such, so why had Harry been so willing to put himself in such a dangerous situation just for a Remembrall? Not that she wasn't proud that her Slytherin son had done what he did, hence the lack of Howlers sent from the Potter Homestead to Hogwarts, but something about the whole story just didn't seem to completely add up.

Then there was Halloween.

The second she had heard about what had happened, she and James had tried to go to Hogwarts straight away, only to be assured by Dumbledore that it wasn't necessary, so they had stayed at home while Dumbledore came and explained the situation in person. At first, she had been shocked at how Michael and his friend had tried to take on a Mountain Troll on their own while James had been proud that he'd been trying to save another friend, but it was what Dumbledore told them about Harry that really concerned both of them. From what they could gather, Harry had appeared, just in the nick of time, and, even more shockingly, defeated the Troll single-handedly, killing it in the process.

Both their sons had been sent to Hospital Wing immediately, where Michael had stayed overnight, suffering from a couple of bruises and broken bones, whereas Harry, who was suffering from magical exhaustion, had recovered and was out within a few hours. For a wizard or witch to recover from magical exhaustion and be up on his or her feet within such a short space of time was unheard of. Either there had been a misdiagnosis, which seemed unlikely due to Madam Pomfrey's well-known skill as a Healer, or Harry was capable of recovering his magical reserves within hours instead of days, which was even less likely.

Finally, there was the matter of the boys' first report cards. Michael had of course done as well as they'd hoped. With the exception of Potions, which they had expected to be biased anyway, Michael's report was a positive one. After two months at Hogwarts, it was clear he was doing, and would continue to do, well in most of his classes, although Lily noticed that there were several 'just like his father' comments in Michael's report, much to her annoyance.

However, as good as Michael's report was, it was nothing compared to Harry's. Harry had done incredibly well in just about all his subjects, the exceptions being the ones he obviously had no particular interest in, but even so, he did well in them anyway. Even Snape, despite his history with James, gave Harry a genuinely good report. _He is unlike any student I have ever taught,_ Snape had written, as had numerous others, including Filius Flitwick, whose comments had been the most noticeable.

_Despite his best efforts to hide it, I have noticed that Harry seems quite capable of performing magic without the use of a wand..._

The words '_despite his best efforts'_ seemed to echo the thoughts of the other teachers. It seemed that in many subjects, Harry, in their opinions, was intentionally holding back, as if trying to not draw attention to his almost prodigy-like abilities. This made sense to both Lily and James, as Harry had always been modest, as well as secretive, but it was troubling to both of them that they had not noticed the apparently incredible talent of their son. They realised, to their shame, that they had underestimated Harry greatly.

Then there was the phrase '_capable of performing magic without a wand'_. Wandless magic? That was almost unheard of – even Dumbledore wasn't powerful enough to use magic without a wand, yet Harry, age 11, could do at least some wandless magic. How long had he been able to do this? Had he just learnt to do it or had he always been able to do this? If the latter was the case, then why hadn't they noticed? Had they really paid that little attention to him?

Between all that and everything else – the chilling descriptions of the 'nasty man' when Harry was younger, Harry's wand, Harry's coldness towards them and Harry becoming a Slytherin – Lily couldn't help worrying that the rest of the Prophecy was beginning to come true.

Also on Lily's mind was the upcoming Quidditch match – Harry's first as Slytherin Seeker…

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Hey, Hal," said Spencer as they made their way towards the Great Hall for breakfast. "Nervous?"

Harry rolled his eyes in response.

"Good answer Hal," said Blaise. "After all, it's not as if Flint, Snape and just about everyone else in Slytherin'll skin you alive if we lose to Gryffindor, right?"

"They won't?" exclaimed Roger, feigning surprise.

"No, no, no," said Spencer. "Of course they won't. I mean, we Slytherins have always been well known for not taking competition between the houses seriously in the slightest, especially so when it comes to Gryffindor."

"So the others don't really mean it when they belittle the Gryffindors?" smirked Roger.

"That's right, Rodge," replied Blaise. "We Slytherins just do it for show."

"It's just that the four of us haven't got 'round to explaining it to our fellow Slytherins yet," added Spencer.

"And I suppose everyone'll listen to us Outsiders, right?" said Roger in response.

"Outsiders?" queried Blaise.

"Well, I suppose it is the best suggestion we've had so far," said Spencer. "Unless anyone comes up with anything better…"

As the others began to yet again discuss a possible name for their 'posse', for lack of a better word, Harry overheard someone saying his name, or rather, 'Michael's brother', and looked up slightly. _Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown,_ Harry groaned as he saw the two Gryffindor girls talking quietly in front of them. _What have we ever done to them, or any of the Gryffindors for that matter?_

"Yeah, and you saw him when he was sorted," whispered Lavender. "He looked glad he was a snake."

"But you didn't hear what he said," replied Parvati. "Me and Padma were right before him. I heard what he said and the way he said the word 'brother' just sounded so… wrong."

"And you've heard what everyone's said," said Lavender. "The way he just appeared at the right moment and saved Michael from that Troll. I mean, how do we know he didn't arrange the whole thing to make himself look better than Michael? Him and his little gang could've been the ones that let that thing in for all we know."

"Somehow I doubt it," said Parvati, shaking her head. "They're not the kind who'd do something like that. They're just morons."

"Yeah," said Lavender. "The way they're always going around like they own the place and trying to make everyone else look inferior, even though it doesn't look like it."

"Overall, those guys are pretty pathetic, aren't they?" said Parvati.

"Totally," laughed Lavender as the two girls entered the Great Hall.

"Can you believe the nerve of those two?" spluttered Spencer. The others had overheard the girls too and, unsurprisingly, neither Spencer or Blaise were pleased. Roger, on the other hand, merely paused for a second before a grin appeared on his face.

"That's it!" he said suddenly. "It's perfect."

"What in Merlin's name are you babbling about now?" said Spencer impatiently. "Didn't you hear what those two said?"

"Yeah, I did, and it's given me an idea," replied Roger eagerly.

"Idea?" said Blaise.

"The Guys," was all that Roger said in response.

"The Guys?" said Harry, finally joining the conversation. "You mean for us?"

Roger nodded.

"The Guys," mumbled Blaise. "Hmm…"

"The Guys – Hal, Blaze, Rodge & Spence," proclaimed Spencer. "Sounds good."

"Best suggestion I've heard so far," agreed Blaise. "You came up with that just from overhearing a couple of random Gryffindors calling us names? Nice one, Rodge."

"I agree," said Harry. "It always gets under people's skins when you take their insult and use it. For all we know, The Marauders might have come from an insult, and everyone still remembers them."

"All those in favour of the term 'The Guys', say 'aye'," said Spencer suddenly.

"Aye," chorused the other three.

"Well, I suppose I should ask if anyone's opposed," continued Spencer. "But I'd be wasting my breath."

"Indeed you would Spence," said Blaise.

"I reckon it's unanimous then," said Harry. "From this day forward, Hal Potter, Blaze Zabini, Rodge Appleby and Spence Westwood will be collectively known as 'The Guys'."

"What about Maarek, Conflagros, Marksmordo and… hold on, Rodge, you still haven't come up with a Dark Lord name yet," said Blaise. "Don't tell me you still want to be Daft whatsisname…"

"Darth Vader," interjected Harry.

"Yeah, the bad guy you told us about from Space Wars," continued Blaise.

"Star Wars," corrected Harry.

"Who cares?" said Spencer. "Just because we don't have a Muggle-born mother…"

"Or know anything about the Muggle world," interrupted Harry.

"That's not the point," said Blaise defensively.

"Then what is the point?" asked Harry.

There was a slight pause.

"I'm hungry," said Spencer suddenly. "Let's go eat."

"Yeah, Hal," agreed Blaise. "Wouldn't want you playing Quidditch on an empty stomach…"

Again, Harry rolled his eyes in response as The Guys entered the Great Hall.

XxXxXxXxXxX

As Harry had expected, there was a mixture of cheers and boos as the Slytherin team emerged from the changing rooms onto the pitch. Looking up, he saw that the Gryffindors were the ones doing most of the booing. _Fancy that,_ thought Harry sarcastically.

Looking up at the crowds, Harry saw his friends all cheering for him, as well as Daphne and Christine, who were both sitting with The Guys, as they now called themselves. _At least someone in this crowd's cheering for me,_ thought Harry, suspecting that the rest of the Slytherins would've booed Harry if they could do so without booing the rest of their team. A quick glance at the Gryffindor stand showed the Gryffindors cheering their entire team, including their new Seeker. _Bloody hell, he's tall!_ marvelled Harry as he regarded his Gryffindor counterpart.

"Don't worry," said Sebastian Bole, one of the Slytherin Beaters. "Brooks had to play as Seeker against us last year when Charlie Weasley had that accident after his brothers pranked him."

"You mean Fred and George?" queried Harry.

"Yeah, the prankster twins," confirmed Bole. "Anyway, Higgs was never that great a Seeker, which is why he stepped down when you came along, but he still wiped the floor with Brooks."

"You should have seen it," interjected Adrian Pucey, one of the Chasers. "Brooks had a Comet 290 and Higgs had a Comet 260, so everyone assumed Brooks would leave Higgs trailing, but Higgs proved them wrong and pulled off one of the best wins I've ever seen."

"You mean the best Seeker they have is someone who got beat by a guy with an inferior broom?" said Harry disbelievingly. "No wonder you guys are supposed to be one of the best teams in Hogwarts, if Gryffindor can't even get a decent Seeker..."

"Oi, watch it kid!" warned Lucas Derrick, Bole's fellow Beater. "YOU still have to prove yourself. Lose this game and we skin you alive, understand?"

"Yeah, yeah, Flint's already dished out the threats," said Harry, impatiently waiting for the game to start. "Don't worry; I don't intend to give the Gryffindors something to gloat about."

"Good boy," said Bole. "Besides, we're the only ones allowed to gloat…"

"Mount your brooms," Madam Hooch suddenly shouted. "Captains, shake hands."

"Watch this, kid," whispered Derrick as the teams mounted their brooms, with the exception of the team captains, who stepped forward and faced each other. "Flint's been practicing his grip since the beginning of term."

Sure enough, Harry noticed that both Flint and Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor captain, were in the middle of attempting to crush each others' hands with vice-like grips. _Ouch_, thought Harry before the two finally let go and mounted their own brooms. There was a loud whistle, courtesy of Madam Hooch and they were off.

Kicking off the ground, Harry shot straight up, spiralling sideways but going straight up until he was above the others. Once up, he scanned the surrounding are for any hint of gold. As he did so, he could hear the commentary of Lee Jordan of Gryffindor quite clearly…

"Well, it certainly seems that Potter is aiming to impress with a very showy take-off. Not that it'll help Slytherin as Katie Bell scores the first goal of the match already in her first ever game as full-time Chaser. Gryffindor now leads 10-0."

There was much cheering from the Gryfindor crowd, as well as the majority of the Hufflepuffs and many Ravenclaws. _Figures,_ thought Harry irritably. _After all, Slytherin is the 'evil house'…_

"And one the snakes has the Quaffle…" began Lee Jordan.

"JORDAN!" Harry heard the voice of Professor McGonagall yell. Looking towards the commentator's booth, he saw that McGonagall was sitting beside Jordan.

"Sorry professor… doesn't matter though, Wood saved the rather pathetic attempt at a shot anyway…"

_I suppose it's a good thing for Jordan that McGonagall's there_, thought Harry as he circled the pitch. _Otherwise someone with a lot less patience than me would've hexed that dreadlocked dimwit by now_. As those thoughts went through his mind, the Slytherin stand exploded as the Flint's second attempt successfully earned his team ten points.

For ten minutes, both Harry and his counterpart, Pete Brooks, scoured the pitch for any sign of the Snitch, listening to Lee Jordan's biased commentary and learning that the score was now 60-50 to Slytherin. _C'mon, where are you?_ wondered Harry impatiently, referring to the Snitch. _Maybe if I go a bit higher I'll have better luck spotting it,_ he thought as he flew up and went to take position above the rest of the action.

However, as he did this, Harry noticed that something was wrong – his broom wasn't responding to him. It bucked forward slightly, then again, this time a lot harder.

"What the…?" Harry exclaimed as the broom began bucking under him. _Oh Merlin, this can't be good…_

Far below in the Slytherin stands, Harry's friends had noticed what was happening.

"What's he doing?" asked Roger. "Surely that's not how you play this, right?"

"Someone's jinxing his broom," muttered Blaise. "Look – it's trying to throw him off."

"At that height!" exclaimed Christine, staring in horror at the figure trying desperately to stay on his broom. "He'll be killed!"

"Why's no-one noticed?" said Daphne angrily. "Someone's trying to kill our Seeker!"

Just at that moment, everyone else suddenly noticed Harry's struggle.

"It appears that Potter's having a spot of bother with his broom, or so he no doubt wants us to believe…" announced Lee.

"JORDAN!" yelled McGonagall, her eyes focused on Harry. "WILL YOU BE QUIET!"

_Great!_ Harry thought sarcastically as one of his hands lost its grip on the broom. _They've finally noticed, but if someone doesn't do something soon, I'm gonna end up making a very unpleasant journey from here to the ground. Damnit, If I'd known someone was going to jinx me, I'd have brought my wand…_

XxXxXxXxXxX

"_You fool! Why is he still on his broom?"_ snarled a voice that only Quirrell could hear.

"_I-I'm t-trying, m-m-master, but he j-just won't fall,"_ trembled Quirrell as he continued muttering the words that were causing Harry's broom to buck violently.

"_I want him dead, NOW!"_ screamed the voice.

"_I-I can s-s-see he's b-b-barely holding on,"_ replied Quirrell. "_He'll be d-d-dead in j-j-just a few s-seconds…"_

Unfortunately for Quirrell, his concentration was disrupted when the person beside him stumbled into him, knocking him down for a few seconds.

"Oh, I'm so sorry professor. I was just trying to see what was happening more clearly…" the girl began, but Quirrell ignored her, his eyes moving straight back to where Harry was.

Only Harry wasn't there anymore.

XxXxXxXxXxX

As suddenly as it had started, the bucking stopped. _About fucking time!_ thought Harry, making a mental note to thank whoever it was who had stopped his broom's attempts at throwing him off. However, before Harry could think about anything else, he saw it.

The Snitch.

Within seconds, he was diving after it, ignoring the frantic yelling of Lee Jordan, who was no doubt accusing Harry of 'pretending' to be in danger in order to distract everyone. Not that Harry cared at that particular moment. All he wanted to do was end the match now before anyone tried to jinx the Nimbus again. Sure enough, as he closed in on the Snitch and reached out to grab it, he felt the broom beginning to wobble slightly.

"Come on," muttered Harry. "Just a little closer."

His broom gave one large heave as Harry lunged forward and grabbed the winged ball. As his hand closed around the Snitch, he finally lost his grip on the broom and fell.

Luckily, he had been quite close to the ground at this point, though at the speed he was going at when he fell, he bounced along the ground for a short distance before coming to rest in a patch of mud, the Snitch still clutched firmly in his hand.

-

**AUTHOR'S NOTES.**

Well, we're getting there. Chapter 6 should be done fairly soon, then Chapter 7 if I can.

Pete Brooks is the only OC Quidditch player in this chapter. The rest are from Canon, though I had to give the Beaters (Derrick & Bole) first names.

**Lady FoxFire** – Thanks for pointing that out, that's two chapters in a row now I've messed up. Oh well, it's been corrected now.

The rest of the Marauders will appear fairly soon.

Concerning Harry's future partner – I think I'd better eliminate a few guesses. Harry's future partner will NOT be…

Ginny Weasley

Hermione Granger

Daphne Greengrass

Christine Morgan

Any other Slytherin girl (Parkinson & Bullstrode etc)

Another hint: The girl in question is not OC, just a Canon character we didn't see much of, to my knowledge. Doesn't matter now anyway, you'll be able to make better guesses soon.

Enjoy.


	6. Visiting Hours

SUMMARY

**SUMMARY**

Harry James Potter is the only person to have ever survived the Avada Kedavra curse. Unfortunately, his twin brother, Michael Stephen Potter, mistakenly proclaimed as the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. As he grows up, Harry becomes withdrawn and distant from his family. However, when Harry and Michael receive their Hogwarts letters, Harry sees it as a chance to finally prove to himself and to everyone else who the true 'Boy-Who-Lived' is…

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see. Also thanks to those who have encouraged this spin-off the 'The Lone Traveller'

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER SIX – Visiting Hours.**

For the next fortnight, Harry Potter was the talk of the school, not only because of the Quidditch match, but also because of something that happened a few days afterwards…

Harry opened his eyes and groaned slightly, his body wracked with pain. Without moving too much, he looked around at the unnaturally clean, white room. _Oh no,_ he thought to himself. _How on earth did I end up in here?_

As he glanced around him at the empty Hospital Wing, he tried to remember what he had been last doing. _Music,_ he thought suddenly. _I was playing music in the common room while doing some homework. Yeah, now I remember. I was testing that music-playing spell I came up with while I was doing a Potions essay._

He winced slightly as pain shot up his right side. _But if that's all I was doing, then why do I feel like I've just been run over by the Hogwarts Express?_ However, when he thought about it, it became obvious – _The music! Oh god, how could I have been so bloody stupid? Muggle music in the Slytherin common room… what was I thinking? Great, so I've just been hospitalised by Merlin knows who just because I put some Oasis on…_

Just then, Madam Pomfrey entered the Hospital Wing, accompanied by none other than Albus Dumbledore.

"And how is he now?" Dumbledore asked.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Well, I've done all I can for his physical injuries, but I'm afraid it may be several days before he wakes up…"

_Several days?_ thought Harry incredulously. _What the hell happened to me?_

"You are sure you cannot revive him?" asked Dumbledore.

"No," answered Madam Pomfrey. "When a person is hit by more than one Stunning Spell, they must be allowed to wake on their own accord…"

_More than one Stunning Spell? Merlin, how long have I been out?_

"I understand," said Dumbledore. "Unfortunately, his parents are here now, and they…"

_What? _Harry couldn't help but breathe in slightly when Dumbledore mentioned his parents. Looking over in his direction, both Dumbledore and Pomfrey saw that Harry was awake. Madam Pomfrey gaped at him disbelievingly, while Dumbledore looked noticeably surprised. _Oh great, they've noticed me, _thought Harry as the Headmaster regained his composure and approached Harry's bed. _Wonderful…_

"Ah, Harry. I'm glad to see you're awake," said Dumbledore as he sat down on the chair already beside Harry's bed.

"What happened?" Harry found himself asking.

"You were found unconscious by your friends on Wednesday evening," answered Dumbledore. "You were brought here and your injuries were treated, but we were not expecting you to wake up so soon."

"So I heard," said Harry. He paused for a second. "How long was I…?"

"You were unconscious through the whole of yesterday and most of today," replied Dumbledore. "It is now late Friday afternoon."

_Two days? That's all? From 'more than one' Stunning Spell? How's that possible? _However, Harry decided to feign ignorance, as it would be more suspicious if he displayed any knowledge about Stunning Spells or their effects.

"You mean I missed two days!" he exclaimed. "But that Potions essay I was doing was meant to be in for Thursday!"

As intended, this response took Dumbledore by surprise. "I believe that Professor Snape would be more than willing to extend the deadline in light of what happened to you, as would your other teachers."

"Oh," said Harry.

"Now, Harry," said Dumbledore, making sure he used Harry's name instead of 'dear boy' this time, Harry noticed. "Perhaps you can shed some light onto what provoked this attack?"

"I doubt it," replied Harry. "All I know is that one minute, I'm sitting in the common room, listening to some music and doing a Potions essay, the next, I'm in the Hospital Wing for the third time in a fortnight." He paused for a second. "I don't suppose you know who did whatever it was they did to me, do you?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "All we know is that you were hit by two, possibly three Stunning Spells, before being brutalised while unconscious, though I must admit, there has been a lot of speculation among your fellow students…"

"Such as?" queried Harry.

Dumbledore looked at Harry sharply. "I'm sure you will be told soon enough, but I must repeat clearly that the only people who know who attacked you are the attackers themselves."

Harry nodded, seeing the subtle warning in Dumbledore's statement. Not that he would pay too much heed, as he already had a pretty good idea who had attacked him.

"Now, unless there is anything further you wish to add, then I shall take my leave and allow your parents to see you now," said Dumbledore. "Is something wrong?" he added, seeing Harry close his eyes and breathing in.

"No," sighed Harry. "No, it's just… well, I'd rather they didn't see me… like this, I mean."

Dumbledore looked at him inquisitively for a second but said nothing and left the Hospital Wing, leaving Harry to his thoughts as he braced himself for the inevitable reactions he would get from his parents, particularly his mother. Sure enough, both Lily and James Potter entered the Hospital Wing not two minutes later.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Harry!" exclaimed Lily as she came in and saw her son sitting up in his bed. "Oh, Harry, you're alright!" She immediately rushed over and hugged him tightly. "Thank god."

"Um… Mum?" gasped Harry, trying not to wince because of his not yet fully healed ribs. "Could you… not hug me so… tightly… it kinda… hurts…"

Lily looked at her son curiously before realising what he meant and letting go. "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry. I…"

"Mum," interrupted Harry. "I'm fine."

Both Lily and James looked at him disbelievingly. "But… you're hurt…" stammered Lily.

Harry shrugged. "Guess that's what I get for being a light sleeper," he muttered.

James was about to laugh, but stopped when he saw the serious look in his wife's eyes. "Harry! This isn't a laughing matter," she exclaimed. "This is serious. You might not have…" She stopped, not wanting to finish the sentence.

"I know," said Harry quietly, his head bowed slightly. "I'm sorry. I…" He stopped and closed his eyes – already, things were going badly.

Lily quickly calmed down and hugged him again, this time more gently. "Oh, Harry, it's okay," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to shout…"

_Merlin, I haven't seen her like this since Michael accidentally blasted me into the future with that Time Turner,_ thought Harry, remembering his mother's reaction when he was finally brought back to the then-present. _Come on, Dad, say something, anything, just change the subject before I get hugged to death…_

Until now, James Potter hadn't said anything but, seeing the slightly embarrassed and annoyed look on his son's face, decided to try and change the subject slightly. "So, um, apart from this little mishap, how have things been?" he asked. "You haven't exactly been in touch, Harry."

"Yeah, well…" Harry muttered, trying to think of a decent excuse for not writing home. The truth was that he simply didn't see any point. He was never any good at letter writing, nor did he see why anyone would want to know what he was up to, even if he had wanted to tell them. However, there was no way he could tell his parents that, especially not right now.

"Don't worry," said James reassuringly, misinterpreting the look on Harry's face. "We're not angry. It would just be nice to hear from you every once in a while." He paused slightly. "Anyway, what was I saying…?"

"Things're fine," replied Harry. "In fact, barring Trolls, Jinxed Brooms and ungrateful brothers, things've been pretty boring…"

"What do you mean 'ungrateful brothers'?" asked Lily in a dangerous sounding voice.

_Damnit,_ Harry mentally cursed. _Why did I have to say that? _"Nothing," he mumbled, knowing that his mother would no doubt pursue the matter anyway. Sure enough…

"Harry," she said forcefully. "Tell me what you meant by that now."

Harry swallowed slightly and glanced at his father for a second. After a few seconds, he sighed and relented. "I… well… you know about the Troll, don't you?" he asked, receiving silent nods in response. "Yeah, well… I kinda visited Michael while he was still in here and…"

"And what?" Lily said, though she had a feeling she wouldn't be pleased by what Harry had to say.

"He kinda accused me of arranging the whole thing to make myself look good," Harry said quickly.

There was a horribly awkward silence.

"Why would Michael accuse you of something like that?" James asked eventually, eyeing Harry suspiciously.

"Because…" stammered Harry. "Because that's what they always…" He paused slightly – he hadn't realised just how much having everyone call him names behind his back actually hurt. Being ignored was one thing but being insulted by the majority was something else. "They hate me," he mumbled out loud.

"Wh… who does?" stammered Lily, worrying that her son was being bullied.

"Just about everyone," mumbled Harry in response. "Half of Slytherin, most of the Gryffindors and probably most of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw all think I'm a show-off just because they struggled to levitate feathers and I didn't. Michael's no different…"

"What!?" exploded Lily as she heard this.

"Lily, calm down," said James quickly. "Harry, I'm sure it's not like that…"

"It is!" yelled Harry, briefly allowing his anger free reign. "Every time I do something right in class, they always mutter stuff about me showing off! Even that idiot Gryffindor, Jordan, called me a show-off during the Quidditch match, even when someone was trying to kill me…" He stopped, realising he probably shouldn't have said the 'k' word. "Um… figuratively speaking, that is…"

"We know what happened, Harry," interrupted James. "Michael had to tell us though, seeing as you never see fit to tell us anything anymore."

"What did he say to you?" Lily asked suddenly.

"Who?" Harry asked. "Michael?"

Lily nodded.

_Uh oh, looks like Michael's gonna get yelled at before long, _concluded Harry, recognising the early signs of what Sirius jokingly called 'Lily Rage'. _Should I save Michael from a yelling at by Mum, or should I just tell her the truth? _

It only took half a second for Harry to decide.

_Well, Remus always says that honesty is the best policy. She probably won't believe me anyway…_

"He wondered out loud how I turned up there when I did and why I helped them," replied Harry. "Then he accused me of being jealous of him because he's famous and I'm not. Then I think he said something about me being obsessed with being better than him, or something along those lines…"

At this point, Lily stormed out of the Hospital Wing.

"Lily!" James called out. "Where're you going?" he asked, though he had a feeling he knew already.

"To talk to our other son!" Lily snapped as she walked out the door.

"Great," mumbled Harry. "More 'Anti-Harry' comments coming up, courtesy of the Gryffindors…"

"So, how have things been?" James asked, trying to change the subject as he sat down beside Harry's bed.

"Well, like I said, apart from Trolls, Jinxed brooms and unprovoked attacks, everything's going fine," replied Harry. "Quidditch practices are a good laugh if you ignore Flint's overwhelming seriousnessness…" Harry paused slightly, wondering out loud if that was even a word. "Oh well. Anyway, me and The Guys've been staying out've trouble, so you don't have to worry about anyone outdoing the Marauders anytime soon, unless the Weasley twins do something REALLY spectacular."

"The Guys?" queried James. "Interesting name. I'm guessing they're your roommates."

"Three of them," replied Harry. "Garrett's a prick though. Him, Malfoy and the rest of the Pureblood Fanatics'll definitely be the first on our list if we decide to follow your example, especially since they're probably the ones that did this to me."

James's eyebrow raised slightly. "What makes you think that?"

"Hmm, let's see," said Harry sarcastically. "Well, for a start, they're Pureblood Fanatics, so anyone who's a Muggle-born or is related to a Muggle-born instantly draws heat from them, which includes both me and Rodge."

"Rodge?"

"Roger Appleby," Harry elaborated. "Then there's the fact that the Potter and Westwood families are 'blood-traitors', so me and Spence are worthwhile targets. Um… oh yeah, Blaze is supposed to be a Pureblood Fanatic, but isn't, so he's not too popular either…"

"And they're probably jealous of the wandless magic…" interrupted James. "Some of your teachers have noticed." he added, seeing the horrified look on Harry's face. "Don't worry, I'm not going to yell at you, but we will have to talk about things when you come home for Christmas."

"Yeah, um, about that," began Harry uncertainly. _Oh Merlin, get me out of this conversation now!_ Harry thought frantically. "We were, uh, kinda thinking of staying here over Christmas, seeing as Blaze's parents probably won't like the fact he's friends with me, Rodge and Spence, while Spence got pretty much the same reaction from his parents when he became a Slytherin as me – minus the Howler…"

Harry stopped. _What the hell am I doing? I'm this close to turning this into a full-blown confrontation. Someone, anyone, please, just get me out of this conversation now before he ends up disowning me or something…_

"Hey, Hal," he heard a voice say.

Harry turned his head slightly and saw Blaise Zabini entering the Hospital Wing, followed by Roger and Spencer. They all paused slightly when they saw James.

"Oh," continued Blaise. "Um, sorry. Didn't think anyone would be here already…"

"It's okay. I think I'd better go anyway," James interrupted, getting up. "After all, someone has to save Michael from your mother's fury."

_Take your time, _thought Harry, relieved that his father was going.

"Anyway, I'll see you soon, Harry," continued James. "And good luck with any revenge pranks you decide to pull," he added as he made his way towards the door.

The Guys gathered around Harry's bed, the first questions being "Are you okay?" and "What did he mean by that?"

XxXxXxXxXxX

"So what're you gonna do now?" asked Spencer jokingly. "I mean, you've taken down a Troll by yourself, recovered from magical exhaustion in a few hours, won a Quidditch match despite your broom being jinxed and you've recovered from being whacked by three Stunners in within two days! What next, Hal? Surviving the Killing curse?" He paused slightly. "Oh, sorry, forgot – you've already done that…"

"Maybe you should take on a Giant," suggested Blaise. "Or a Dragon. Maybe a pack of Werewolves…"

Harry sighed. "How about nothing happens to me for a while," he suggested. "Preferably a long while."

"Well, I know what you could do if you're not interested in making the Daily Prophet…" began Blaise.

"What!?" exclaimed Harry. "What d'you mean 'Daily Prophet'?"

"You were mentioned in the Daily Prophet," explained Spencer. "Page four, I think. Had the headline 'What next for Harry Potter?' and talked about all the stuff I've just mentioned – the Troll, the Quidditch match and now the attack by the supposedly 'unknown party'."

"They couldn't get through one article without talking about your brother though," added Blaise.

"Typical," mumbled Harry. "Stupid media bastards."

"Speaking of bastards," Spencer interjected. "Those of the Pureblood variety have been looking awfully pleased with themselves since yesterday. Started going on about what happened to you being what happened to 'Mudblood lovers' and how the 'Mudbloods' themselves wouldn't be far behind…"

"Guys…" said Roger suddenly.

"Sorry," Spencer apologised. "Anyway, now that we know who did this to you, the question is, what're we gonna do about it?"

"You mean, do we let them get away with it, or do we plot diabolical revenge, right?" grinned Harry.

Both Blaise and Spencer returned Harry's grin, but Roger looked unsure.

"Rodge?" said Harry enquiringly. "You okay?"

"Yeah," mumbled Roger. "I'm fine."

"But…?" Harry prompted.

"He's just worried we'll get in trouble if we do anything, even though he knows that none of the teachers'll do anything about Malfoy's and co," Blaise elaborated.

"Rodge," Harry said. "What's the second rule about being a Guy?"

Roger paused for a second before answering. "An attack on one of us is an attack on all of us," he said quietly. "But even if the teachers do nothing about Malfoy's lot, they'll definitely do something about us."

"So we'll be subtle about it," said Spencer.

Blaise snorted incredulously. "Since when d'you worry about subtlety, Spence?" he joked, earning a slight scowl from his friend.

Not long afterwards, Madam Pomfrey returned to the Hospital Wing, forcing The Guys to switch topics as she went into her office.

"So, Hal, I take it that music playing spell you came up with worked?" Blaise asked quietly.

Harry nodded.

"What exactly were you playing that got you beat up, anyway?" added Spencer.

"Let's see…" said Harry, trying to remember. "First I put on Green Day's 'When I Come Around', then I played 'Lucky You' by the Lightning Seeds and 'Animal Nitrate' by Suede, before getting halfway through 'Some Might Say'."

"Oasis?" exclaimed Roger. "What could they have against Oasis? Unless they prefer Blur…"

"Maybe," laughed Harry. "But I somehow doubt we'll be seeing any Pureblood names in the Blur fan club anytime soon."

"Exactly how many Muggle bands do you like Hal?" Spencer interjected. "I mean, between you and Rodge, I bet there's not a single Muggle group both of you don't like."

"And how many Wizarding music groups do you know of that're better than what we've told you about?" countered Harry. "I mean, face it, Celestina Warbeck's rubbish and the Weird Sisters are just a poor man's Blur with bagpipes, which, considering those two're supposedly the best that Wizarding music has to offer, doesn't really help the 'Wizards are better than Muggles' argument, does it?"

Though both Blaise and Spencer would sooner jump off a cliff than show prejudice against Muggles, they were still proud to be Purebloods, despite the fanatics giving them a bad name, and as such, felt annoyed whenever Harry or Roger listed all the great Muggle musicians there were. Fortunately, they didn't talk about music that often, and when they did, Harry and Roger quickly switched topics whenever they noticed the confused looks on the two Purebloods' faces.

"Anyway," said Roger, doing just that. "The spell worked, so Harry can now wandlessly summon, levitate, conjure water bubbles just above peoples' heads and is now a human Hi-Fi system."

"Plus there's that new one I fully intend to test on the Fanatics the first chance I get," added Harry.

"What new spell?" said Blaise suddenly.

"Something good, I hope," said Spencer.

Though Harry said nothing, his grin told the others that this new spell of Harry's had the potential to be amusing at the very least.

"Just as long as this doesn't start some kind of war," conceded Roger.

"Hey, they've cast the first stone, and if it turns out those Pureblood Fanatic Bastards want a war, we'll give 'em one!" said Spencer loudly.

"Will you keep your voice down!" hissed Blaise, glancing towards Madam Pomfrey's office. "If she hears…"

Unfortunately, though she didn't hear what Spencer said, she most certainly heard his voice and quickly came through to enforce her 'silence in the ward' policy.

"Right, that's it!" she scolded. "Out! All of you out, if you're going to shout! Go on, out!"

Before The Guys left, Harry managed to whisper one last thing to Spencer, who was the closest.

"One last thing – I don't suppose you guys could come up with something easier to say than 'Pureblood Fanatic Bastards', could you? I mean, it doesn't exactly slip off the tongue…"

"Come on, hurry up!" interrupted Madam Pomfrey impatiently.

Scowling as they did so, Blaise, Roger and Spencer left the Hospital Wing. Harry lay back down on his bed and sighed, wondering how exactly he was going to pass the time before he was released.

XxXxXxXxXxX

At about eight o'clock, an hour before curfew, visiting hours in the Hospital Wing ended. Not that it made any difference to Harry, who hadn't had any visitors since The Guys left.

_Well, Madam Pomfrey reckons my injuries won't have healed completely until tomorrow at about mid-day, so I guess that's four hours down, sixteen to go. _Looking around, he saw nothing that would take his mind off his near perpetual boredom. _You'd think they'd've at least given me a book or something to pass the time. I mean, it doesn't even have to be a novel – a textbook'd do just fine. Oh well, at least that Potions essay was the only homework I had for a while, unless we've been given more in the meantime. _

He sat up slightly and turned his pillow over. _At least the pain's starting to go, _Harry thought as he felt a twinge down his left side, the pain in his right side almost gone. Just then, he heard at least three voices coming into the Hospital Wing – all of them female.

"Goodness, child, what have you done now?" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey.

"It's not her fault, Madam Pomfrey," said one of the voices.

"Yeah, it was all that prat, Entwhistle's fault," added another.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "What happened?"

"I was coming down the stairs from my dorm when that idiot tried to go up them…" one of the girls, no doubt the one who was injured, began to explain.

Harry winced slightly at the implication. _Guess no-one told him about the 'anti-boy' charms._

"… and the stairs turned into a slide, so both of us ended up in a heap at the bottom of the staircase," continued the voice, which for some reason seemed familiar to Harry.

_I've heard that voice before, or a similar one at least. But where? I know it's not someone in Slytherin, so who could it be? Who do I know who's not in Slytherin?_

"Yeah, and even though he was below her on the stairs, that prat somehow managed to land on top of her and sprain her wrist," added one of the familiar voice's companions.

_Must've been a Gryffindor then, _Harry quipped mentally.

"Very well," sighed Madam Pomfrey. "I'll take a look at it. The rest of you, however, unless any of you are also injured, may leave now."

"What…?"

"But…"

"Why…?"

"Now!" said Madam Pomfrey forcefully. "I refuse to have the three of you standing around cluttering up my ward." Grumbling, the rest of the girls left. "Now, if you'll just take a seat on one of the beds, I'll be with you in a minute," Madam Pomfrey said to the injured girl.

Sitting up slightly, Harry positioned his pillow behind his back and caught a glimpse of the mystery girl as she sat down on a nearby bed.

_Is that…? _Harry wondered for a second, before realising it wasn't who he thought it was. _Hair in a different style, Ravenclaw colours, plus the fact she's been in here for nearly a minute, no doubt knows I'm in here and hasn't insulted me. Yup, definitely not Parvati Patil…_

"This Entwhistle doesn't sound too smart for a Ravenclaw if he doesn't know not to go up the girls' staircase," said Harry.

The Ravenclaw girl looked at him with a slightly surprised expression on her face as she cradled her wrist. "How did you know I wasn't…?" she began before stopping.

"How did I know you weren't Parvati?" finished Harry. "Couple of reasons. First, your hair's isn't done up with those fancy plaits and stuff your sister usually has. Second, you're wearing Ravenclaw colours. Third, you're actually talking to me instead of just throwing some random insult at me or calling me a show-off, so unless I'm missing some very important clue, you're Padma Patil and definitely not Parvati, am I right?"

The girl smiled at this. "Sounds like Parvati isn't your favourite person," she said. "Then again, I'm not surprised considering what she and Lavender've been saying about 'Michael's Slytherin twin'."

"Let me guess," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "'He's, like, totally such a show-off 'cos he, like, knows how to do stuff.'" he said in an exaggerated impersonation of the conversation between Parvati and Lavender that The Guys had overheard.

"Pretty much," nodded Padma, trying not to laugh. "You're all those two ever seem to talk about. It's almost like they're obsessed with you, especially since you and your friends came up with that group name. What is it, The Guys or something like that?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "In fact, I don't suppose you could thank Parvati for us next time you see her, could you?"

"What for?" asked Padma.

"For giving Rodge the idea," answered Harry. "After all, it was her 'those guys are pathetic' line that inspired him."

"Really?" said Padma. "She won't be too happy about that."

"That was the whole point," replied Harry. "Turning into an insult into a name is the best way at getting back at someone. The only problem is that it might really piss her off…"

"Don't worry," said Padma. "I had a feeling Parvati was wrong about you anyway. In fact, most of us agree that you're not the kind of person everyone seems to think you are, mainly because we get the 'show-off' comments too. It's just jealousy, that's all."

"That's good to hear," said Harry. "At least some folk haven't been taken in by the 'Anti-Harry' propaganda."

Padma shook her head. "Not just us. A lot of Hufflepuffs agree with us. So do a few Gryffindors, including your brother…"

"You what?" exclaimed Harry. "Last time we spoke, he accused me of constantly trying to make myself look better than him… among other things." he added, the last part barely audible.

"Probably because people keep comparing you to him, right?" asked Padma.

"Maybe…" mumbled Harry. "Don't see why he should be so annoyed about it though. I mean, I'm the one who gets the 'why can't you be more outgoing like Michael' and 'you never see Michael with his head in a book, do you?' comments."

"You get that too?" said Padma. "I thought it was just me…"

"What?" exclaimed Harry. "Why the hell would anyone want you to be like Parvati? What's so special about her?"

"Same as what you've just said," Padma responded. "Plus I'm not that interested in Divination like Parvati, so Grandmother definitely favours Parvati over me, what with her and a lot of my family being Seers and all."

"So they want you to be a rumour-mongering, gossip-spreading, plait-wearing, Divination-liking, no doubt Witch Weekly and Celestina Warbeck loving…"

However, Harry didn't get to finish his rant as Madam Pomfrey came back through to the main ward with a bottle of Potion in her hand. From the look on Padma's face, Harry could tell she had previous experience with Madam Pomfrey's often repulsive Potions. Also, judging by the look on her face after she'd taken a spoonful of the stuff, the Potion was indeed repulsive, though she managed to not spit any out, something that Harry knew wasn't easy.

"You okay?" Harry asked as Padma was given a glass of water to wash away the aftertaste.

After taking a few glugs of water, she nodded. "Yeah," she gasped. "I'm fine."

"Now, just sit here and wait for the Potion to work," Madam Pomfrey instructed. "And please try not to have any more of these accidents, child," she added as she went back through to her office.

"So, I'm guessing this isn't your first visit, right?" Harry asked a very embarrassed Padma.

She nodded. "It's not my fault…" she mumbled.

"Who says it is?" responded Harry. "Let me guess – the same people who say you should be more like your sister, right?"

Padma nodded again.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Idiots," he muttered out loud.

Padma stared at the boy lying in the nearby bed with a look of disbelief, unsure whether to admonish Harry for insulting most of her family with that comment or be happy that someone was standing up for her, albeit behind their backs. _But why? Everyone else seems to prefer Parvati to me, yet here's someone who actually seems to like accident-prone, book-loving Padma Patil, even though we've barely met. _Suddenly it hit her. _He understands! He has a twin too. He knows what it's like to be constantly compared to…_

"You okay?" she heard the boy ask, drawing her from her thoughts.

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine," stammered Padma. "Just thinking." She winced slightly, the Potion beginning to have an effect as she felt a tingling sensation in the wrist she was cradling in her other hand.

"Ow," she mumbled, hoping he wouldn't hear her. _Bloody Potion, _she thought angrily. _Bloody sprained wrist. Bloody stairs. Bloody Kevin Entwhistle. Bloody Terry, Michael and Anthony for not warning him, then laughing their heads off at both of us. Bloody Marietta Edgecombe and her bloody friends, who'll no doubt have told the whole school by tomorrow lunchtime. Bloody Parvati and Lavender, who'll probably do the same when they find out. Bloody Parvati. Bloody everything…_

Harry watched the dark skinned Ravenclaw with the long, dark hair as she tried to hide her discomfort. _Must be the Dolsprannus Potion, _Harry concluded, glancing at one of his own wrists. _Oh well, at least she can actually blame someone for falling down the stairs, _he thought, remembering a prior accident back home._ Probably won't stop people from laughing about it though…_

"Well, that's should be it healed by now," said Madam Pomfrey as she came back through from he office, a quill in her hand. "How does it feel?"

Padma moved her hand slightly and felt nothing. "Fine," was all she said in response.

"Very well," said Madam Pomfrey. "Now, hurry along back to your common room. You should have time to get back before curfew." Padma nodded and stood up. Before she left, however, she turned to Harry.

"Nice speaking to you, Harry."

"Yeah, you too, Padma," replied Harry as she left the Hospital Wing.

"Now, Mr Potter, how are you feeling?" the Healer asked, directing her attention to Harry.

"I'm fine," was Harry's simple but concise response.

"Oh really?" responded Madam Pomfrey. "Well, I'm glad to hear it, but you're still going to be staying here overnight at the very least. I'll take a better look at you in the morning, then we'll decide whether you're fit to return to normal school hours. Now try and get some sleep. The lights will go out in ten minutes."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," mumbled Harry. _Get some sleep… right. Me get to sleep before eleven, _Harry mentally retorted as Madam Pomfrey returned to her office to finish whatever it was she did in there.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Sure enough, two and a half hours later, Harry was still awake.

_Come on, sleep already! _he thought irritably. _Why can't I just go to sleep? God, I feel like I've been lying here forever. What time is it? _Harry reached over to his watch, which was lying beside his glasses on the table beside his bed. Unfortunately, it was too dark to make out the time on the watch, which only added to Harry's frustration. _Great! So there's just enough light to see a few things, but not enough to tell the time by. Typical…_

"So, how is he?" he suddenly heard a quiet voice ask from the doorway.

"Oh, he's fine Severus…" began Madam Pomfrey. 

_Snape!? _thought Harry incredulously. _What the hell is he doing here?_

"Good," replied the voice of Harry's Head of House. "Now, I have that Potion you requested."

"Ah, thank you Severus," replied Madam Pomfrey. "I've just ran out of this today on that Patil girl…"

_Oh, shut up and leave her be, will you? _Harry found himself thinking as Madam Pomfrey mentioned Padma. _She told you what happened and now you go around telling Snape as if it were her fault. He'll probably bring it up when she has Potions now, the slimy git…_

He listened as the two said bade each other good night. "So much for Doctor/Patient confidentiality," he muttered out loud once he was sure Snape had left, hoping that Madam Pomfrey would hear him. However, if she did, she didn't do anything in response…

_Why won't that infernal child just go to sleep? _Madam Pomfrey wondered angrily as she sat back down in her office chair. However, deep down, she knew he was right – she really shouldn't have mentioned Padma Patil, especially as she wasn't in Slytherin, but surely it didn't matter too much. _He probably would have heard about it at some point anyway, wouldn't he?_ she reasoned.

Looking down at the paperwork on her desk, she suddenly began to feel tired. _Maybe I should go and get some sleep myself. It has been a long day, after all._

With that, she got up and went through to the main ward before leaving when she saw that her patient had finally managed to get to sleep.

-

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Now how's THAT for 'deviating from Canon'?

**Concerning Oasis & Blur – **As I've said before, I'm using a dating system based on the first book taking place in the year in was published (1997), which is about the time 'Be Here Now' (Oasis's third album) came out. Also, as you may have figured out, I'm more of an Oasis fan than a Blur fan, though I have nothing against Blur's music.

**nyeshet – **The Prophecy in this universe is different. Also, the pairing is with a Canon character we **don't see much of** in Canon and, as far as I know, hasn't been seen very often as a Fanon pairing. I'm not claiming the pairing (which you can probably guess now) will be unique.

**Fire Dolphin – **One of the fundamental differences between The Marauders and The Guys is that where The Marauders prank just for the hell of it, The Guys will occasionally pull pranks for a reason (Revenge etc). Also, they will not be getting the Marauder's Map or the Invisibility Cloak.

Apologies for the delay. My computer decided to delete the first version of this chapter, as well as the last few chapters of this and a few of TLT, most of which I've already uploaded and was therefore able to get back.


	7. Skirmishes, Pranks & Ravenclaw girls

**SUMMARY**

Harry James Potter is the only person to have ever survived the Avada Kedavra curse. Unfortunately, his twin brother, Michael Stephen Potter, mistakenly proclaimed as the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. As he grows up, Harry becomes withdrawn and distant from his family. However, when Harry and Michael receive their Hogwarts letters, Harry sees it as a chance to finally prove to himself and to everyone else who the true 'Boy-Who-Lived' is…

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see. Also thanks to those who have encouraged this spin-off the 'The Lone Traveller'

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER SEVEN – Skirmishes, Pranks & Ravenclaw girls.**

"You sure about this, Hal?"

Harry turned to Roger and nodded. "I've been sitting in the common room all day waiting to do this. Besides, all I'm doing is making sure we've got the right Fanatics and making a statement while I'm at it. The really good bit comes on next week."

"And what is this statement?" Spencer asked in between mouthfuls of mashed potato.

"That I don't care what they think of my musical tastes," replied Harry.

"I think he was asking what you were planning to do, Harry," said Blaise.

"You'll see," mumbled Harry as he passed Spencer a jug of Pumpkin Juice.

"Alright, Hal, I'm finished, Rodge's finished and Spence's almost…" began Blaise, a few minutes later.

"Yeah, I'm finished," said Spencer.

"Okay, fine, we're all finished, so what happens now?" continued Blaise.

Grinning slightly, Harry raised his hand and flicked it at the ceiling.

"Oh my god!" mumbled Roger as the sounds of an electric guitar echoed through the Great Hall. "I don't believe it…"

All around the Great Hall, many were looking at each other with confused looks on their faces, the only ones recognising the song being Muggle-borns – there were a few cheers from the Oasis fans and a few boos from those who preferred Blur. Meanwhile, The Guys were trying not to laugh as they soon realised why Harry had put the song on…

"That's the song you were listening to," said Blaise. "When you were attacked, right?"

Harry nodded. "Just thought it'd be interesting if anyone had the guts to repeat the attack in front of everyone."

"Look at the teachers!" interjected Spencer, pointing at the staff table. "Even Flitwick can't get rid of it!"

"Of course they can't," smirked Harry. "They're probably trying to get rid of an already existing spell."

"Oh, Merlin, look! Now Dumbledore's joined in!" said Blaise, barely able to contain the laughter, much like the majority of the Great Hall.

"You should put this on a loop or something," Roger suggested. "Make it repeat this or play some other songs."

"Good idea, Rodge," agreed Harry. "Any suggestions?"

"I'd just stick with Oasis – 'Wonderwall', 'Roll with it', 'Morning Glory', that kind of thing," said Roger.

"Sounds good," said Harry, pointing at the ceiling slightly as the song eventually began to fade. As it finished, it was quickly replaced by another song.

"Didn't know you'd listened to Definitely Maybe, Hal," said Roger, immediately recognising the new song from Oasis's first album.

"Well, 'Some Might Say' and 'Slide Away' are two of my favourite Oasis songs, plus I've got a load more songs set to play," replied Harry.

"Such as?"

"Most of the second album do?" grinned Harry.

Eventually, the teachers gave up trying to get rid of the music and went back to their dinner. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the music anyway – everyone, that is, except for a very angry group of Slytherin first years.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Fifteen minutes later, The Guys were back in their common room, laughing uproariously.

"Did you see the look on Malfoy's face!" gasped Blaise.

"And Garrett's!" added Spencer.

"Parkinson and Bulstrode didn't look too pleased either," noted Harry.

"Neither did Crabbe & Goyle," added Roger.

"Well, I guess we know who attacked you now," said Spencer. "The question is, what now?"

"Now?" grinned Harry. "Well, let's just say I can feel the Marauder in me urging me to prank them into submission."

"Just as long as it doesn't go too far or get us into trouble, then I'm in," said Roger.

"Yeah, me too," said Blaise.

"Don't forget about me guys," added Spencer. "Stupid PFBs deserve everything they get."

"PFBs?" Harry asked suddenly. "Don't tell me…"

"Short for Pureblood Fanatic Bastards," Blaise elaborated. "Rodge came up with it," he added.

"Hey!" said Roger defensively. "You two didn't complain when I suggested it."

"What? I'm not saying we didn't," responded Blaise. "I just thought I should give you the credit."

"Oh," mumbled Roger. "Thanks."

"PFBs," repeated Harry. "Oh well, suits them better than… what was it they called themselves last time we saw 'em? Y'know, just before Slytherin vs Gryffindor, when they started mouthing off just after Potions…"

"The Slytherin Elite," replied Blaise, causing the four boys to burst out laughing once again.

"Oh, yeah, that was absolutely classic!" spluttered Spencer, trying to breathe. "Malfoy going on about how they were the elite and how they were better than all of us…"

"And how Cuthbert joined in by saying us 'immature oafs' were nothing compared to them and how they were superior in every way…" continued Blaise.

"Before Hal tripped Malfoy and sent him flying in front of everyone…" added Roger.

"Right into Crabbe & Goyle, who then landed on Parkinson and Bulstrode just as Cuthbert said they were the best Hogwarts had to offer…" said Harry.

"Before tripping over Malfoy…" Spencer added.

"Right into McGonagall…" continued Roger.

"Who gave them all a yelling at they won't soon forget." said Blaise.

"And detention," finished Harry.

After another few minutes, The Guys finally calmed down, just as the people they'd just been laughing about entered the common room.

"You think that was clever, don't you Potter?" snarled Malfoy. "You think we're going to let you pollute our school with your filthy Muggle music?"

Harry stood up slowly and eyed Malfoy with unmistakeable contempt but said nothing. For a full minute, Harry just stood there, saying nothing, his hand nowhere near his wand. Neither Malfoy or his companions had expected this – a retort or an attempt to hex them maybe, but not this. Finally, the raven-haired boy with the glasses spoke.

"Didn't think so…" he muttered out loud.

"What did you say?" spluttered Malfoy.

"Had a feeling you wouldn't attack me to my face," Harry elaborated in a somehow calm but intimidating voice.

The Guys stayed sitting, their hands on their wands just in case, wondering where Harry was going with this and what Malfoy's reaction would be. However, none of them found out as their attention was drawn to the angry voice of the cloaked figure that had just entered the common room.

"What is going on here?" Snape asked loudly, failing to maintain his usually calm composure. He frowned slightly when he saw Malfoy's hand barely touching his wand. "I hope no-one was thinking about starting a fight in the common room now, were they?"

"Course he wasn't," replied Harry, still eyeing Malfoy. "Too many witnesses…"

Before Harry could say any more, Malfoy drew his wand and pointed it straight in Harry's face. "Derris…"

Before Malfoy could finish the incantation, Harry's reached out, grabbed Malfoy's wand hand and pointed it towards the ceiling. As everyone watched the orange beam shoot out and hit the stone ceiling, Harry's other arm shot out, the heel of his hand connecting with the bridge of Malfoy's nose…

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Well, at least Malfoy got detention for trying to hex you, but I still can't believe you actually broke his nose, Hal!" said Roger as The Guys entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning.

"He deserved it, Rodge," said Spencer. "Especially if he was about to hit Hal with the Derristindle curse."

"What's that?" asked Roger.

"A 'Forgivable Unforgiveable'," interjected Blaise. "They're a group of spells that're very nasty, but not considered bad enough to be Unforgiveables. Believe me, there're some quite nasty ones in that category. For example, the Derristindle curse can cause permanent brain damage."

"You mean if Hal hadn't…" stammered Roger.

"Yup," said Harry as they all sat down. "If I hadn't done what I did, I'd probably have the mental capacity of a piece of Broccoli or a Pureblood Fanatic right about now."

"Which means that Hal had every right to break Malfoy's nose," interjected Spencer. "Pity you couldn't have knocked a few of his teeth out while you were at it. Seeing that smirk of his, minus a few front teeth would've been interesting."

"I'll try and remember that next time," replied Harry as he grabbed a slice of toast off the nearby rack.

"Y'know, I'm surprised no-one seems to be making a fuss," noted Blaise, glancing around the Great Hall. "I would've thought breaking anyone's nose would've been worthy of a bit of gossip."

"Maybe the PFBs are trying to keep it to themselves," suggested Spencer, taking a swig of Pumpkin juice as he did so.

Suddenly, their attention was drawn to the usual morning owl deliveries.

"Y'know, I don't think I'm ever gonna get used to seeing that every morning," said Roger as they watched several letters being dropped in front of several students from all tables.

"Give it time, Rodge," said Blaise in response. "After all, we've only been here for like two and a half months…"

He stopped suddenly when a small red package dropped onto the table in front of Harry.

"Ah," was all that Harry said as the others stared at him and the Howler. _Guess my parents've been told about what I did to Malfoy, _Harry concluded. _Oh well, people were bound to find out sooner or later anyway…_

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Lumos," Harry muttered out loud, looking at his upturned palm expectantly. Nothing happened. He tried again. "Lumos." Again, nothing happened.

"Give it up, Hal," groaned Spencer. "You can do it with a wand no problem, so stop trying to do it wandlessly as if your life depended on it."

"Can't you just get a book to help you or something?" asked Roger, looking up from his own book.

"I've tried," sighed Harry. "But everything to do with wandless magic is in the restricted section of the library. In fact, just about everything is in the restricted section. I mean, Dark Arts I can understand, but Advanced Level Charms and Potions? What are they doing in the restricted section?"

"Why're you so concerned?" asked Spencer. "You're already better than anyone in our year. Even that Granger girl from Gryffindor and most of the Ravenclaws struggle to keep up with you."

"Spence, if Dumbledore's right, then there's the spirit of a Dark Lord out there somewhere, plotting a big comeback which no doubt includes a horrifically painful death for me and everyone who knows me!" exclaimed Harry angrily. "And I'd rather learn at least some of the important stuff sooner rather than later."

"Alright, alright, relax Hal," said Blaise quickly. "Look, maybe you should try and get some sleep."

"Yeah, we don't want you to tire yourself out before you unveil this mystery spell of yours on Monday," added Spencer.

"You mean tomorrow," interjected Roger.

"What?" said Spencer.

"Tomorrow's Monday," elaborated Roger.

"Is it?" questioned Spencer.

"It is," answered Harry. "My detention was today, remember? That means that tomorrow's Monday."

"Oh, Merlin, why didn't you guys tell me?" exclaimed Spencer. "That Herbology essay's meant to be in tomorrow morning!"

"You mean the one on the Lemlem… Lenlenini…" said Blaise, struggling to say the name of the plant in question.

"Lenlenimisk plant," said Roger slowly, making sure he said it correctly.

"Yeah, that's the one," nodded Spencer.

"That essay's not due in 'til Tuesday," said Roger.

"What?" exclaimed Spencer for a second time. "You sure?"

"Positive," replied Roger.

"Oh. Fair enough," was all that Spencer said in response.

Rolling his eyes slightly, Harry held out his hand again. "Lumos."

This time, a light momentarily flickered in the palm of his hand.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"So what's this mystery spell of yours?" asked Blaise eagerly the next morning at breakfast.

"Just wait and see," replied Harry after swallowing a mouthful of fried egg.

"Aw, come on, Hal," pleaded Spencer.

"You'll see when the… what was it? PFBs?" said Harry.

"Yeah," Roger nodded. "PFBs."

"Yeah, well, you'll see when they arrive," continued Harry. "It's nothing spectacular though. In fact, I'm not really a 'prankster' as such anyway."

"Probably best to leave the pranks to the Weasley twins," agreed Blaise.

"Hey, Hal, could you pass me that jug of Pumpkin juice?" interrupted Spencer.

"What, this one?" replied Harry, pointing at the nearest jug before passing it over.

"Why d'you point at things like that?" asked Blaise. "Y'know, with two fingers instead of just one."

"Guess that's just one of my little quirks," shrugged Harry. "Oh well, at least you know what to do if you ever meet some impostor pretending to be me – just ask him to point at something."

They all laughed at this for a few seconds, before Roger brought the PFBs arrival to their attention.

As the four boys and two girls entered the Great Hall, Harry muttered the word "Staticus", flicking his hand in their direction as he did so.

A few seconds later, the entire Hall exploded with laughter at the sight of the six Slytherins, every one of them with hair sticking out in every direction imaginable. Needless to say, The Guys were among those who were laughing.

"That. Was. Brilliant!" gasped Roger as the victims of Harry's simple but effective prank left the Hall quickly, failing to effectively hide their humiliation as they did so.

"Well, it was you who gave me the idea when you started talking about that Van-de-something generator," replied Harry as he tried to stop laughing.

"You mean that… Muggle thing… that makes… that makes your hair… stand on end?" asked Spencer, also trying hard to stop laughing but failing miserably.

"The Van de Graf generator," said Roger.

"Yeah, that thing," nodded Harry. "Anyway, like I said – nothing spectacular, but still enough to cause a scene…"

Eventually, the laughter in the Great Hall died down and everyone resumed eating breakfast before classes began.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The rest of that Monday was just as mundane as every other for Harry – at least, the classes were. After lessons, however, was a different story…

After Charms, Flitwick had kept Harry behind and talked to him for several minutes about 'not holding back' in regards to his skills and abilities, after which Harry had left the classroom and began to make his way back to the Slytherin common room. However, as he walked down one of the corridors, he suddenly felt a familiar twinge in his scar. _Not again, _he thought as the pain seared through his forehead for a few seconds before fading. _Why the hell does this keep happening?_ he wondered briefly, before a new feeling overcame him. For some reason, there was somewhere he needed to be. Where exactly, he didn't know, but he had to go there right now…

A few minutes later, he found himself outside the girl's toilets on the second floor.

_Wait a minute. What in the bloody hell am I doing here? It's a girl's toilets for Merlin's sake! I mean, fine, last time there was a Troll on the loose about to squish my brother and his friends, but what about this time? What on earth's so important about this bathroom?_

Harry took a deep breath and opened the door slightly. As he did so, he heard someone crying. Despite his common sense telling him to just leave whoever it was to it, Harry entered the girl's toilets.

"Hello?" Harry called out cautiously.

The sobbing suddenly stopped and a horrified gasp was stifled poorly. "Leave me alone, Davis!" a voice exclaimed from one of the stalls.

_Davis? Kenneth Davis? The Ravenclaw? Wait a minute… _thought Harry, recognising the voice. _Padma?_

"Actually, my surname begins with a 'P', but hey, you're only about a dozen letters out," replied Harry, approaching the far stall.

"H… Harry?" the girl in the stall stammered. "Oh Merlin…"

"Padma," sighed Harry. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing! Nothing's wrong," stammered Padma. "I… I'm fine, just go away Harry. I'm fine…"

"No you're not Padma," said Harry, a bit more forcefully than he intended. "Look, just tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can do something to help…"

"No Harry, you can't!" Padma interrupted. "You shouldn't be in here anyway. You'll get in trouble!"

"You're upset about something," said Harry, ignoring Padma's last statement. "And sitting here crying about it won't help…"

"Just leave me alone!" cried Padma from behind the stall door. "I don't need any sympathy!"

"How about a friend who'll listen to you, then?" Harry asked, shuddering slightly when he realised just how stupid that sounded. The crying, however, suddenly stopped. "Come on Padma, at least stop hiding in there. I mean it won't do you any good…"

There was a click and the cubicle door slowly opened to reveal a bleary-eyed Padma.

For the next few minutes, Harry listened as Padma described how just about everyone had been making comments at her expense since her visit to the Hospital Wing and how Snape had really let fly with the humiliating comments earlier that day in Potions.

_Note to self: Get even with Snape somehow if he says anything to me next time I'm in Potions. Merlin knows he's had it coming for ages now, _Harry found himself thinking when Padma finished, though he was tempted to go and prank him anyway. Meanwhile, he Harry thought he should probably tell Padma about how Madam Pomfrey pretty much told Snape what had happened to her.

So he did.

"She told Snape I'd fallen down the stairs?" she exclaimed.

Harry shook his head. "Not really, though she did tell Snape she'd just run out of whatever it was he was delivering on 'that Patil girl', so it probably didn't take him long to figure the rest out."

"Great," mumbled Padma. "As if there weren't enough gossips in this school already…"

"I know what you mean," agreed Harry. "I mean, I heard yesterday there was a rumour going around that I ended up in the Hospital Wing 'cos I tried to take on another Troll. Then there's the one about me being responsible for the exploding toilets, even though the Weasley twins were caught in the act by McGonagall."

"I heard…" Padma mumbled in response.

There was a slight pause before Harry decided to try and cheer her up.

"Do I really sound like Kenneth Davis?" Harry asked suddenly. "I mean, how can I? He's from Yorkshire and I'm Welsh, so how we can sound alike, I have no idea…"

This seemed to do the trick as by the time the ensuing conversation ended, Padma was in higher spirits as the two of them finally went to leave the toilets. However, as they approached it, the door opened.

"Padma? Are you in here…" the girl began, stopping when he saw the two of them. "Oh," she added, frowning slightly at Harry's presence.

"I, uh, should probably get going now," said Harry. "I'll, uh, see ya 'round, Padma."

"Yeah, see you, Harry," replied Padma as Harry quickly left the girl's toilets and disappeared down the corridor, leaving the two Ravenclaws alone as they started to walk back to their common room.

"What're you smiling about?" asked Padma, noticing the smirk on the second year girl's face.

"Oh, nothing," she replied. "I just never thought I'd ever see Harry Potter in a girl's bathroom, least of all with a girl…"

A few seconds passed before Padma understood what was meant by that. "Cho!" she exclaimed, blushing slightly. "He was just talking to me, okay?"

"Even that's an achievement, believe me," replied Cho Chang.

"You know Harry?" asked Padma.

"Sort of," said Cho. "His mum and my mum are friends and I've been to their house a few times, but Harry always seems to keep to himself. At first, I thought it was me, but he's like that all the time according to his brother."

"Oh," was Padma's only response.

"Still, it's nice to think he might be coming out of his shell," added Cho.

"Do you like him?" Padma asked.

"Well, he seems like a nice guy from what I've seen," answered Cho. "Why? Do you like him?" she added with a slight grin.

"Um… well… yeah… kind of," stammered Padma. "I mean, he knows what it's like…"

"Know what what's like?" queried Cho curiously.

"Having a more popular twin," mumbled Padma in response.

This time, it was Cho's turn to reply with a simple "Oh".

A few seconds passed as they rounded a corner and approached the large bronze statue of an Eagle that guarded the entrance to the Ravenclaw tower. "Cliodna," said Cho, causing the statue to move to one side, revealing the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room.

The two entered the common room and were greeted by Padma's friends. As Padma settled near the fireplace and was bombarded by the collective curiosity of Lisa Turpin, Mandy Brocklehurst, Terry Boot, Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein, Cho Chang made her way up to her dorm where she knew Marietta and the others would be, thinking about Michael Potter's shyer, quieter twin as she went.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Harry had also been thinking about Cho Chang briefly, but now he had more important things on his mind.

_Why am I doing this? _Harry wondered incredulously as he unlocked the Potions store cupboard with a quick "Alohomora." On his way back to the Slytherin common room, he had thought briefly about Padma and Cho, before passing the corridor down to the Potions Dungeon. For some reason, he'd decided to get back at Snape for all his comments towards himself and Padma now, rather than wait.

And here he was now, busy breaking into Snape's Potions store in the Potions dungeon, something that would get him a month's worth of detentions and a three-figure number of house points taken off him if he was caught – but Harry, for some reason, didn't care. He had decided to do what he was going to do, so now he was doing it.

Opening the cupboard door carefully, Harry stepped inside.

"Now," he muttered to himself. "If I swap the Armadillo Bile with the Sardella Blood and the Powdered Dragon Teeth with the Dried Thestral Heart Powder…"

Suddenly, Harry was forced to throw out one of his arms to prevent himself from falling. Looking down, he saw what he'd nearly stumbled over – a Potions textbook.

Placing the ingredients in his hand back on one of the shelves, Harry bent down and picked up the textbook. It was very old judging by the badly battered cover, but it was NEWT level, so it would definitely be worth reading. _Besides, no one'll miss an old Potions textbook, will they?_

Pocketing the book in his robes, Harry swapped over a few more ingredients, or more specifically, the labels of a few more ingredients, before leaving quickly, leaving no trace of his having been there.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Why do I have a feeling there's something you're not telling us, Hal?" asked Spencer, noting the badly suppressed grin on Harry's face.

Harry said nothing and reached for a slice of toast from the nearby toast rack.

"Now, that badly hidden smirk on you face wouldn't have anything to do with what took you so long last night, would it?" asked Roger.

"Who's missing from the Staff Table this morning?" Harry asked in response.

"What? You mean Quirrell?" said Blaise. "He's always missing."

"Anyone else you notice not here yet?" said Harry.

A few seconds later, they all realised who Harry was talking about.

"Snape?" said Roger hopefully.

"Yup," confirmed Harry. "I'm not entirely sure why he's not here, but I have a feeling it may possibly be that something went wrong with his early morning Potion making."

"Early morning Potion making?" exclaimed Spencer. "You mean he gets up early in the morning just to make a Potion?" He paused for a second. "Wait a minute… whaddaya mean 'something went wrong' with his Potion?"

"Oh Merlin," mumbled Blaise, realising exactly what Harry was getting at. "You haven't…"

"Tampered with the ingredients in the Potions store?" finished Harry. "No, of course not – I may have swapped some of the labels, but I didn't tamper with the ingredients themselves."

"Oh my god," groaned Roger. "If he finds out…"

"He won't. He'll probably just blame the Weas…" began Harry, but was interrupted when a very angry looking figure stormed into the Great Hall.

Though many wanted to, no one dared laugh at the quite ludicrous appearance of the normally dark and mysterious Potions master. Covering Snape's face and hands were several large blobs of differing colours, some yellow, some purple, a few red. Also, protruding from his forehead was a large horn, similar to that of a Rhino. Combined with the splotches of random colour over his once black robes, Severus Snape was understandably livid. He was also convinced he knew who the culprits were.

"Weasley!" he yelled, glaring at the Weasley twins, Fred and George, who sported identical looks of extreme confusion on their identical faces. "Both of you! Detention for a month and fifty points from Gryffindor!"

"What?"

"But…"

"It wasn't…"

"We didn't…"

"Tonight, five o'clock, no arguments!" yelled Snape before storming out of the Great Hall, no doubt to the Hospital Wing, whereupon most of the Great Hall burst out laughing, though many of the Slytherins were not amused.

Needless to say, The Guys were among those who laughed.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Well, I for one, am completely shocked," said Blaise. "I mean, who'd've thought Snape of all people would give the PFBs detention for doing something to Roger Appleby?"

"Well, he has been in a really bad mood since this morning," pointed out Spencer.

"Yeah," agreed Roger, rubbing his no longer bruised left eye. "You could still see where the blobs were in Potions this afternoon. Y'know, I thought he was going to give the whole of Gryffindor detention, what with them doing the snickering for once."

"But he did take off enough points from Gryffindor to fill a Gringott's vault," said Blaise. "Especially from Harry's Gryffindor twin."

"By the way, where is Hal anyway?" asked Spencer suddenly.

"Up in our dorm," answered Roger. "Said he was going up to read while Cuthbert's in detention with Malfoy and the rest…"

In the dorm at the top of the boy's staircase, Harry Potter picked up an old Potions textbook and opened it for the first time.

_God, this thing must be twenty years old! _he thought as he flicked through the first few pages. _What's this? _he wondered, seeing a bit of writing in the corner of one of the pages. '_Stir anti-clockwise at the third stir after addition of H'griff toenail'_, Harry read. _Wait a minute, the instructions say to keep stirring clockwise at that stage. _Slightly puzzled at the conflicting instructions, Harry turned the page and saw another piece of handwriting. '_Langlock – to really shut someone up'. Hold on, that's nothing to do with Potions. That's a spell, but I haven't seen it before in any spellbooks I've read. Maybe it's made-up, like my 'staticus' spell – I suppose I could try it next time Malfoy or Garrett start mouthing off about whatever and see what it means by 'really shut someone up'. _

A few minutes later, Harry had skimmed through the book, taking note of both it's Potions related content and it's previous owner's handwritten additions. _Hmm. Animagus Revealer Potion. Interesting… _

All of a sudden, Harry noticed a piece of paper on the floor out of the corner of his eye. Picking it up, he realised that it must have fallen out of the book when he opened it. Drawing it up to his eye level, Harry read it.

_This book is the property of the Half-Blood Prince._

_The Half-Blood Prince? What kind of nickname is that? _Harry wondered as he put the piece of paper back inside the book and closed it just as he heard the rest of the Guys coming up the stairs.

"Hey Hal," greeted Blaise. "Reading anything good?"

"Just an old Potions textbook," replied Harry, stashing the book in his trunk. "Nothing particularly exciting, though I did notice a few interesting Potions…" he added, deciding not to tell them about the 'Half-Blood Prince', at least until he found out more.

"Like what?" asked Spencer.

"Well, I noticed a recipe for Polyjuice Potion, as well as Animagus Revealer Potion…" replied Harry.

"Animagus Potion?" exclaimed Spencer.

"Animagus? You mean people that can turn into animals, right?" said Roger.

"Yeah, except you have to study for a long time to become one and even if you do succeed, you have to register as an Animagus," said Blaise.

"Well, I'm up for getting in touch with my animal side," said Spencer. "I don't suppose you know anything about Animagi, do you Hal?"

"Hold on, Spence," interrupted Blaise. "You know we're not allowed to become Animagi until we're of age."

"And?" replied Spence. "First rule of being a Guy: There are no rules but our own."

"But we could get expelled," argued Blaise. "Even if we didn't, it'd be illegal unless we registered."

"But that's only if anyone finds out," pointed out Spencer.

"He's got a point, Blaze," said Roger. "Besides, how cool would it be to be able to turn into an animal?"

"You'd only be able to turn into one animal though," said Harry. "And you don't get to choose what animal you become."

"Who cares?" interjected Spencer. "I say we do it."

"Yeah, I'm with Spence," added Roger. "Being able to turn into an animal sounds cool."

"Well, we would be following in the footsteps in the Marauders," mumbled Harry. "Oh, what the hell, we might as well if we can actually get any books on how to do it."

"All of which are probably in the Restricted Section of the Library," pointed out Blaise.

"And if we do somehow manage to get a hold on some?" asked Spencer.

"Well, then I guess I won't be able to stop you," sighed Blaise.

Spencer looked at Blaise curiously. "What the Merlin's name is wrong with you Blaise? Normally you'd jump at the chance to do something that could get us into trouble!"

Blaise replied with a grin. "Remember that point I made about you being the most gullible person I know?"

With that, Harry and Roger burst out laughing while Spencer scowled at Blaise before joining in with the laughing. Soon after, the four were in complete agreement – just for the sake of it, they would become Animagi, provided they could get the books on how to do it, though they did draw the line at giving each other Animagus based nicknames like the Marauders did.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"What are those two plotting now?" asked Hermione, glancing across the common room at the two red-haired twins.

"They reckon they were framed this morning," replied Ron. "They're trying to figure out who really did it and decide whether to congratulate them or seek revenge when they find out."

"Well, it was Snape who was pranked, so they'll probably congratulate them," said Michael as he made his move.

Ron looked down at the chessboard and within a few seconds took Michael's one remaining knight in response.

Michael sighed in frustration. "Merlin, I'm beginning to wonder if beating you is even possible."

"What can I say?" grinned Ron. "It's a gift."

"Well, it'll definitely be something to put on your CV – 'Best Chess player in Hogwarts'," said Michael. "Pity you couldn't turn it into a career."

"If only," laughed Ron. "Even if I could though, Mum wouldn't allow it. She wants me to get loads of OWLs and NEWTs and get a job at the Ministry or something."

"Yeah, same with me," nodded Michael. "Plus, we've both Hermione here to back them up."

"Very funny," pouted Hermione. "I'm not that bad, am I?"

"Well…" began Ron uncertainly.

"In some ways, I suppose…" mumbled Michael at the same time.

"Compared to Mum…" continued Ron.

"I guess you could say…" said Michael, trailing off slightly before he could really say anything.

"Boys," muttered Hermione, getting up. "Well, I hope you've already done that History of Magic Essay, because you can forget about getting any help from me."

"You mean the one on Gopshank, the leader of the 1634 Goblin Rebellion?" asked Michael.

Hermione nodded.

"Already done it," said Michael.

"You have?" asked Ron. "Don't suppose you could give me a few hints, could you, mate?"

"Sure," said Michael as Hermione walked across the common room towards the girl's staircase, shaking her head slightly.

"I still reckon she's a bit of a know-it-all," said Ron as they watched Hermione disappear up the staircase.

"Y'know, you sound like Parvati and Lavender talking about Harry when you say that," Michael pointed out.

"Sorry," mumbled Ron. "Hey, I don't suppose there's any truth to the latest Parvati and Lavender rumour, is there?"

"What rumour?" asked Michael.

"The one about Harry plotting some Fred & George like prank at the Hufflepuff VS Ravenclaw match this Saturday," elaborated Ron.

"Oh, that one," sighed Michael. "Nah, I doubt it. Not that I'd know anyway. You'd have to ask one of his friends."

"Good point," said Ron.

"What're you two ickle firsties talking about us for?" asked a voice from behind Ron.

"We weren't talking about you Fred," sighed Ron.

"You mentioned us though," said George.

"Only because of the latest rumour concerning my brother, courtesy of Gryffindor's very own pair of rumour-spreaders," retorted Michael.

"You mean the one about him planning something for the Quidditch game on Saturday?" asked Fred.

"Yeah, that one," replied Ron. "Anyway, I suppose you've figured out who framed you for that prank on Snape, right?"

"Unfortunately…" began George.

"We haven't," continued Fred. "Though we do have a few suspects…"

"None of them very likely, though," interjected George.

"But they are suspects nonetheless," finished Fred.

"Like who?" queried Michael.

"Um…" began Fred uncertainly.

"We basically came up with a list of those who'd have a reason to prank Snape," said George.

"And?" said Ron.

"It's a pretty long list," admitted Fred.

"Most of Gryffindor…" began George.

"Ravenclaw…" added Fred.

"And Hufflepuff…" continued George.

"The good news though…" said Fred.

"Is that the only Slytherin suspects…" said George.

"Are your Slytherin twin and his friends," finished Fred, nodding at Michael.

"You're right," nodded Michael. "That is a pretty long list."

"I don't see why you're taking this so personally," said Ron. "McGonagall already got you out of that detention on the grounds that there was no proof it was you, so why don't you just cherish the memory of Snape and his rainbow coloured robes like the rest of us?"

"I guess you're right, Ickle Ronniekins," agreed George.

"It just doesn't feel right though," sighed Fred. "The thought of someone trying to outdo us, I mean."

"I wouldn't worry about it," said Michael. "For all we know, it could've been just a one off."

"Maybe," nodded Fred, though he didn't look convinced.

A few minutes later, Michael and Ron's Chess game ended with a resounding victory for Ron, earning several sarcastic cheers from Fred and George, who had lost count of the number of Chess games Ron had won since he'd started playing Wizard's Chess at the age of eight. Not that that stopped George from offering to save Michael from another humiliating defeat by challenging Ron to a game. This allowed Michael to go up to his own dorm while Ron busied himself with the task of rebuffing George's by now predictable Chess strategy.

"Hey, Neville," said Michael as he entered his dorm.

"Hi, Michael," said Neville, looking up from his Herbology textbook and returning the greeting as Michael sat down and began writing a letter home.

_Dear Mum, Dad and Annie_

_Have I mentioned how much I love it here? There never seems to be a dull moment around here, what with Peeves up to his usual tricks as well as the mysterious 'anti-Slytherin' prankster striking again this morning (It wasn't Fred and George, though that didn't stop Snape blaming them anyway). Yes, you read correctly. Snape was pranked this morning and I must say it was a good one. At breakfast, Snape just burst in, his skin covered with all these multi-coloured blobs and this huge Rhino horn on his head, as well as his robes having this rainbow-coloured splatter. Some people reckon he just made a mistake while making a Potion, but I don't think so somehow. Snape may be a git, but he's not the kind of person that makes mistakes when it comes to Potions. I can't really say much else about it though, due to lack a clue on the part of literally everyone._

_Classes are still going well, except Potions of course, especially today (Snape was still in a bad mood from this morning – you could still see the splotches where the blobs were in class.). Today's Potions class probably set a new record for points taken off Gryffindor, 30 of them from me alone, as well as 25 from everyone else. He also took some off Harry and his friends, though that usually happens anyway, but he even took some off Malfoy for talking. I even hear he gave Malfoy and several of his hangers-on detention after class. I guess that goes to show that if you want Snape to punish everyone equally, you have to prank him. _

_Harry seems to be getting on just fine, though he's still giving me a wide berth. I just wish I knew what it was I said to him when he visited me in the Hospital Wing after Halloween that was so terrible. It's been driving me nuts these past few weeks. Oh well, I guess I'll have to try and talk to him sooner or later._

_Meanwhile, I've decided that I'm definitely going to try out for the Quidditch team next year. Hopefully, we'll have a better Seeker though. Don't get me wrong, Pete Brooks is a nice guy, but he stinks as a Seeker, though we only have his performance against 'Harry the Prodigy' to judge by, so it's probably a bit unfair to dismiss his skills. Then again, he's leaving at the end of the year anyway, so we'll need a new Seeker anyway. Unfortunately, unless I suddenly develop a talent for Seeking, which doesn't seem likely, we're going to be stuck for a good Seeker next year too – so much for Gryffindor winning the Quidditch cup any time soon. On that note, the Ravenclaw versus Huflepuff game is on Saturday. Ravenclaw are the favourites, even though it'll be Cho's first match as Seeker (Did I mention Cho Chang was Ravenclaw's new Seeker?)._

_Anyway, Ron's still pounding everyone at Wizard's Chess, Hermione's still getting at me and Ron to study more, Fred and George are still pranksters supreme (Don't worry Mum, I'm not planning on following in the Marauder's footsteps – yet), McGonagall's as strict as ever, Snape is still a git (though you've probably guessed that already) and Hagrid's rock cakes still live up to their name. In other words, things are the same as they always are._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Michael_

"Letter home?" asked Neville as Michael got up, picked up the piece of parchment and went to leave.

"Yeah," nodded Michael. "I don't suppose you need anything posted while I'm at the Owlery, do you?"

"No. I'm fine, but thanks for reminding me," replied Neville. "I should probably write home myself at some point."

Michael nodded in agreement and left the dorm.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"How in Merlin's name do you know so many spells, Hal?" asked an almost awestruck Blaise Zabini.

Harry merely grinned and replied with the usual "I read a lot" as he tried to preserve the memory of the moment he found out exactly what the 'Langlock' spell did.

"Well, I certainly haven't seen any books that tell you how to do THAT!" said Spencer, also laughing as Blaise and Roger launched into an impromptu re-enactment of Cuthbert's random insults, only for his tongue to suddenly become stuck to the roof of his mouth. "Seriously, you have to show us how to do some more of all those spells you seem to've mastered."

"Maybe some other time," replied Harry.

"Aw, come on, Hal," said Roger. "You can't keep 'em all to yourself."

"Alright, alright, fine," said Harry quickly. "How about I show you how to Summon stuff?"

"You showed us how to do that a fortnight ago," replied Spencer. "Even I can do it now."

"Okay…" said Harry. "What about the Illumination spell?"

"Lumos," said Blaise, holding up his wand. A bright light appeared at the end of the wand, lighting up their faces slightly. "Last Sunday," he added.

"Alohomora?" tried Harry.

"Ditto," said Roger.

"Silencing charm?" Harry said hopefully

"The day before you were hospitalised," replied Blaise.

"Damnit!" muttered Harry. "How about the Banishing Charm?"

"You mean the one that blasts people halfway across the room?" asked Spencer. "You can do that?"

Harry nodded. "I've been trying to do it wandlessly too and I think I've almost nailed it."

"But…" said Roger hesitantly. "Isn't that a non-verbal spell?"

"There is a non-verbal version," confirmed Harry. "But even that's easy. In fact, it's supposed to be one of the easiest non-verbals to learn, so there'll probably be no real problems."

"Even though it's not taught until fourth year," said Blaise.

"So's the Summoning Charm," pointed out Harry. "But all of you managed to learn that no problem."

"Alright," nodded Spencer. "The Banishing Charm it is."

"Y'know, I reckon you should consider a career in teaching, Harry…" began Roger.

"Potter!" interrupted an angry voice.

_Oh Merlin, don't tell me he's back for more, _thought Harry as he looked up and saw Cuthbert marching towards him, wand drawn. "Whaddaya want, Garrett?"

"You think that was funny, what you did to me, don't you?" Cuthbert spluttered angrily.

"Well… to be honest…" said Harry, somehow managing to maintain a straight face. "Yes, actually, I did."

Needless to say, that wasn't the answer Cuthbert wanted to hear, which is probably why he then tried to hex Harry, only to be thrown to the other end of the common room at the wave of one of Harry's hands. Scrambling to his feet, a humiliated and angry Cuthbert Garrett retreated from the common room before any other unavoidable spells could be sent his way.

"Oh well," sighed Harry. "I guess that means I can do the wandless non-verbal version now. Oh well, at least it saves me the trouble of giving you guys a demonstration."

Blaise, Roger and Spencer spent the next several minutes alternating between laughing at Cuthbert and praising Harry. Not long afterwards, they all went up to their dorm in high spirits.

-

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Well, I think I've managed to cover everything I wanted to cover in the pre-'Lone Traveller' part of the story, even if this chapter does seem a bit convoluted.

Yes, as you've probably guessed, the pairing will **eventually** be Harry and Padma. (Note the word 'eventually')

Next up – The Guys receive a visit from a passing traveller (finally)


	8. A Passing Traveller

**SUMMARY**

Harry James Potter is the only person to have ever survived the Avada Kedavra curse. Unfortunately, his twin brother, Michael Stephen Potter, mistakenly proclaimed as the Boy-Who-Lived'. As he grows up, Harry becomes withdrawn and distant from his family. However, when Harry and Michael receive their Hogwarts letters, Harry sees it as a chance to finally prove to himself and to everyone else who the true 'Boy-Who-Lived' is…

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see. Also thanks to those who have encouraged this spin-off the 'The Lone Traveller'

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER EIGHT – A Passing Traveller.**

Over the next few weeks, relations between The Guys and the PFBs did not improve. Hexes were fired, punches were thrown and somehow, a vial's worth of Babbling Beverage ended up in Draco Malfoy's Pumpkin Juice. However, it was obvious to everyone around them that things were beginning to get out of hand between the two Slytherin groups, but despite multiple detentions and point deductions for both parties, neither was willing to end the hostilities.

Not that any of this stopped Harry from pursuing other matters.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Bloody Pince," muttered Harry as he sat alone in the common room – he had just gone to the library with the intention of sneaking out a couple of books from the Restricted Section, but Madam Pince's vigilance had discouraged Harry from trying.

His plans foiled yet again, he'd returned to the common room and found it empty. For a few seconds, Harry had wondered where everyone was seeing as it was Friday evening, then he'd realised that everyone above third year would be busy getting ready to go to Hogsmeade the next morning. It didn't explain the absence of the rest of The Guys and the other first years though, but rather than go looking for them, Harry decided to make a start on the Herbology essay they had been given for Monday, having determined that The Guys were not in their dorm.

Unfortunately, because both Roger and Spencer had to go home for Christmas, The Guys' plans for staying over Christmas were now scuppered, which was proving to be a major distraction for Harry at that moment. With an exasperated sigh, Harry put his Herbology stuff to one side and picked up the Half-Blood Prince's Potions textbook, which he'd also brought down. Flicking straight to near the end of the book, he read over the instructions for the Animagus Revealer Potion again.

_Well, following these instructions should be easy enough, but some of these ingredients'll be hard to get. _thought Harry as he read. _And what in Merlin's name is 'shredded Molbayasa skin'? Great – so to become an Animagus, not only will we have to get our hands on some Animagi transformation books, but we're gonna have to find out what some of these ingredients are. I mean, whoever heard of 'well-ground Oliparkum seed'?_

Harry closed the book and sighed before opening it again, this time merely flicking through the pages. Though he'd had the book for nearly three weeks, Harry always found something that he hadn't noticed before tucked away in the corner of one of the pages. This time he came across a spell in the top right hand corner of the page that showed the instructions for making the Draught of Peace. _'Sectumsempra – to be used against one's enemies', _read Harry. _Sounds interesting…_

Taking his wand out of his robes, Harry glanced around him to make sure that no-one was around. Satisfied that no-one else was in the immediate vicinity, Harry took a deep breath and swished his wand at the stone wall next the boy's staircase.

"Sectumsempra," he said in a loud voice as he swished his wand. As he said this, a powerful cutting curse hit the stone wall, tearing a gash in the stonework and leaving a small pile of rocky debris underneath a now quite visible scar in the wall.

Harry stood there, gaping incredulously at his handiwork before snapping out of the daze he was in and proceeding to do what any other eleven-year old wizard in that situation would have done.

He panicked.

"Shit!" he exclaimed. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!"

Looking around nervously, he saw that the coast was still clear, but if anyone were to come through the portrait hole at that moment, then nothing would have been able to save him from Snape's wrath. Starting fights with fellow students was one thing, but vandalising a common room was on a completely different level. This was beyond a detention and a deduction of house points – this kind of thing could get him suspended, perhaps even expelled.

"Okay, okay, okay," Harry said to himself very quickly, trying to calm himself down before he had a full blown hysterical panic attack. "Just relax. Relax, relax, relax… Right, all I have to do is try and repair it before someone sees it…"

He pointed his wand at the pieces of stone on the floor and looked at the gash in the stonework, wondering if it would even be possible to fix it completely. "Reparo," said Harry, causing a few of the rocks to leap up and re-attach themselves to the wall. Unfortunately, the majority of the gash was still visible. He tried two more times but still the unsightly gash in the stone wall was visible.

"Reparo. Reparo!" Harry repeated, each time growing even more nervous. Some of the pieces weren't going back to their original places in the wall and the gash in the wall was still visible. After another three attempts, the remaining rubble would no longer fit into what remained of the gash. _Oh Merlin, I'm not gonna be able to fix the rest of it! Now what?_

After a few seconds, Harry decided to hope that no-one noticed the quite noticeable gash in the common room wall and quickly got rid of the remaining rubble with a quick "Evanesco" before going back to his seat at the other end of the common room, wincing slightly at the fact that the scar in the stone wall could still be seen from where he was. He turned his eyes towards the Potions textbook and stared at it.

_This Half-Blood Prince wasn't kidding when he said 'to be used against one's enemies', _thought Harry, his heart still beating ludicrously quickly. Shuddering slightly at the thought of what would have happened if he had saved that spell for Malfoy or Garrett like he had with the other spells in the textbook, Harry put the book to one side and decided to try and do that Herbology homework before he ended up demolishing anything else.

Eventually, he managed to calm down enough to make a start to the essay. _Name and elaborate on the seven uses of the Lenlenimisk plant in Potion-making and cookery,_ thought Harry, reading the assignment. _Um… well, it's used in the Babbling Beverage,_ he thought, smirking slightly at the still fresh memory Malfoy's unfortunate first-hand encounter with the Potion in question. _Its petals can also be used as a garnish, as well as in soups and stews, then there's the fact that it's one of the main ingredients in several sweets such as Sugar Snappers, Tongue-Pluckers and Sweetnips. Um… what else? Come on… ah, stupid Herbology. I mean, who cares about a bunch of stupid plants?_

After a while, Harry decided to take a break from the essay, but instead of going back to the Half-Blood Prince's book, he decided to re-read the letter he'd got from his mother over three months before.

Once again, he found himself wishing he could take his mother's advice, but he couldn't – seeing his brother being constantly praised for his successes only seemed to make Harry even more determined to outdo the supposed 'Boy-Who-Lived', despite the fact that he was already doing so. He had was already one of the youngest Seekers in Hogwarts history and was constantly top of most of his classes, even in Potions, where he was still the only Slytherin that Snape would take points from, though he noticed this was happening less and less as time slowly went by. He knew that he should be happy about the way things were going, but he wasn't – Harry still felt that there was something he should know about, something that was so close and yet, was completely obscured and hidden from him.

As Harry folded up the letter and put it in one of his pockets, he saw Blaise enter the common room out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey, Hal," greeted Blaise, as he approached Harry and sat himself down on a nearby chair.

"Hey there, Blaze," Harry responded. "What's up?"

"Well, the sign-up list for those staying over Christmas is up on the notice board," said Blaise. "Unfortunately, my parents want me back home though. Apparently they're organising a big family get-together, and I've been told I have to be there."

Harry nodded. "Oh well. Looks like I'll have to go home after all, else I'll have to stay here on my own, seeing as Rodge and Spence are both going home too."

"Cuthbert's staying," noted Blaise, trying not to grin at the inevitable response.

Harry looked at Blaise incredulously. "You what? You're not seriously suggesting I stay here with that obnoxious git?"

"Good point," agreed Blaise. "Look, I'm sorry…"

"Don't worry about it," interrupted Harry, not wanting to hear Blaise apologise for something he didn't need to apologise for. "Besides, you fit in with your family about as much as I do with mine. I mean, if what you told me about their opinions on Muggle-borns is true…" He trailed off, not wanting to continue.

"So, you'll be going home too then?" asked Blaise after a slight pause.

"Guess so," shrugged Harry. "Oh well…"

There was another pause before Blaise decided to change the subject.

"So what're you doing?" he asked, looking at what Harry had managed to write thus far. "Herbology?"

Harry nodded. "The seven uses of the Lenlemim… the plant we've been studying in both Potions making and Cookery."

"I guess I should make a start too," mumbled Blaise. "Hold on…" he then said, glancing over at something that he'd just seen in the corner of his eye. "Has that always been there?"

_Ah crap, _Harry cursed mentally. "Has what always been there?" Harry asked, feigning ignorance.

"That," said Blaise, pointing at a section of the common room wall next to the boy's staircase. "You see it?"

"See what?" asked Harry, squinting slightly.

"That gash in the wall," said Blaise. "Can't you see it?"

Glancing around slightly, Harry decided to tell Blaise about what had happened. "Oh, that gash in the wall," he said with pretend realisation. "Um… well, you know that Potions textbook I nicked from Snape's store cupboard?"

"Yeah," replied Blaise.

"Well, the previous owner decided to write a few spells in it," explained Harry. "A few of them are probably of his own invention, like that tongue locking I used on Garrett a few weeks ago, but there are a few I've recognised."

"Where are you going with this?" asked Blaise suspiciously.

"Well, there was this one I recognised from somewhere, but I couldn't remember where, so I decided to try it out," continued Harry.

Blaise glanced at the gash in the wall and looked at Harry incredulously. "You did THAT? What kind of spell could do that?"

"The incantation's 'Sectumsempra'," said Harry. "Best I can tell, it's some kind of really powerful variant of 'Diffindo'."

"Powerful is right!" mumbled Blaise, glancing at the scarred wall. "I mean, just look at it!"

"And that's after a few 'Reparos' and an 'Evanesco' to get rid of the rest of the rubble," said Harry.

"AFTER you tried repairing it?" exclaimed Blaise. "Oh Merlin…"

There was a fairly long pause.

"Well… I suppose it's not really THAT noticeable anyway," said Blaise reassuringly. "In fact, I'll bet you no-one else notices it."

Just then, Roger and Spencer entered the common room and joined Harry and Blaise.

"Hold on…" said Spencer as he and Roger sat down. "Has that mark in the wall always been there?"

XxXxXxXxXxX

After dinner, Harry eventually managed to finish the Herbology essay and looked at his watch. _I don't believe it, _he thought disbelievingly. _I started this at half past five and, barring an hour for dinner, it's taken me until nearly ten o'clock to finally get this bloody thing done. Oh well, so much for getting that History of Magic essay done tonight. Maybe tomorrow then. _With that, he decided to try and get some sleep.

After changing into his pyjamas, Harry collapsed onto his bed. _Quidditch practice tomorrow_, he remembered as he lay there staring at the ceiling. _Hopefully Flint'll be in a good mood…_

He turned his head towards the window. _Oh, who am I kidding? Flint always takes Quidditch way too seriously, though he might not be so serious since we've already trounced Gryffindor._ He smirked to himself as he remembered seeing everyone's faces after he had caught the Snitch and won the game for Slytherin, despite someone trying to jinx his broom while he was flying it. _I wonder who it was?_ Harry thought. At the moment, there were two suspects as far as Harry was concerned – Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell.

Snape was not the biggest fan of anyone named 'Potter' after all, and he would probably love an excuse to make Harry's life a living hell. However, making Slytherin lose a Quidditch game seemed a little extreme to Harry – Snape took the competition between the four houses very seriously and would have sooner gnawed off his own arms than allow Gryffindor to gain an advantage over Slytherin in contention for the House Cup. Still, Blaise, Spencer, Roger, Daphne and Christine all insisted that they saw Snape muttering something under his breath from the stands at the time, and he couldn't just ignore them, even though he knew there had to be more to things than they were actually seeing.

Quirrell was a different story. The stuttering Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher didn't seem to be the type of person who would try to jinx someone in the middle of a Quidditch match, attended by the whole school, but the way Quirrell looked at him made Harry wonder. _Why does he look at me like that?_ Harry asked himself for what may well have been the millionth time. Every time Quirrell looked at him, Harry could see a strange combination of fear and hatred in the Professor's eyes. Then there was the matter of his scar – the twinges he felt seemed to happen mostly when Quirrell was around. _Maybe I should tell someone,_ Harry found himself considering once again. _I mean, something must be causing it. Maybe if I go to Dumbledore… No, he probably won't listen. After all, according to them, my scar's just a side effect of my proximity to Voldemort and Michael that night. Dumbledore'll just ask Michael if he's felt anything, Michael'll say 'no' because his scar was made by a bit of splintered wood and I'll probably be dismissed as an attention-seeker or some other piece of Hippogriff crap._

Harry cleared his mind of all thought and closed his eyes. Before long, Harry had fallen asleep. However, had he stayed awake a few seconds longer, he might have seen through the window a bright blue glow emanating from near the lake.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Wake up!" Harry heard a voice shout as a pillow flew past his head. "We've got Potions first and you know how Snape is if any of us are late!"

Harry rolled over and rolled his eyes. _Nice try Blaise,_ he thought – today was Saturday, after all. "Blaze," Harry mumbled. "One day, I swear you're gonna try that on someone with a lot less patience than me, and on that day, you'll find out exactly what those beds in the Hospital Wing are like to sleep on."

"You've already told me," grinned Blaise. He turned to the others. "C'mon guys, help me out here."

"How about saying 'please'?" said Garrett sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he said this and ignoring the scowl he got from Blaise and Spencer for talking.

"What about that jinx I read about?" interjected Roger. "You know, the one involving the ice cold water."

Spencer sighed. "Harry. I've just looked at Rodge's alarm clock and we now have just over ten minutes left if we want any breakfast."

Harry, realising that he was feeling quite hungry, sat up and looked at his watch. "Excellent point, Spence," he grinned. "Even though you were lying about the time, that's still the best reason for getting up I've heard so far,

"Better than freezing cold water?" said Roger.

"Oh, shut up, Appleby," muttered Cuthbert as he finished dressing himself in his usual robes before leaving the dormitory quickly before anything unpleasant could be done to him.

"Merlin, no wonder he gets on so well with Malfoy and co," sighed Harry as he got out of his bed.

"Bloody pureblood fanatic bastards…" muttered Spencer as he finished buttoning up his shirt.

"Guys!" interrupted Roger. "It's okay…"

"Roger," said Blaise. "They're wrong. We all know that. You don't have to defend them, especially after what they've said about you."

Roger shook his head. "I don't care what they believe. It doesn't make any difference whether they like me or not. I'm Muggle-born and there's nothing I can do about what they think."

"That doesn't mean you should let them get away with being pureblood fanatic bastards," said Spencer.

There was a long, awkward silence.

"Well, I don't know 'bout the rest of you," said Harry suddenly as he pulled a sweater over his head and put on his glasses. "But I fancy some breakfast."

"Excellent idea, Hal," grinned Spencer.

Blaise nodded in agreement. "Well, we'd better get down there now then, before all the good food's gone."

With that, the four friends left the dormitory and headed for the Great Hall, where, unfortunately, just as The Guys finished breakfast, the PFBs decided to make their presence felt.

XxXxXxXxXxX

It had started off like all their little confrontations did – Malfoy and Garrett would insult them using unmistakeably upper-class words like 'oafs', 'disgraces' and 'riff-raff', while Harry, Blaise and Spencer would then fire back with a variety of creative and colourful insults of their own. They would then threaten each other and the PFBs would make references to 'Blood-traitors' or 'Mudbloods', at which point, a punch or hex would be thrown before the confrontation was broken up by a teacher and detentions were assigned.

This time, however, things escalated a lot quicker than normal, thanks to the PFBs skipping straight to the racist comments. Within a minute, the Great Hall became silent as wands were drawn.

"Well?" Malfoy, whose party had drawn their wands first, sneered at the four, ignoring the gasps and murmurs that had erupted around them. "What're you Mudblood lovers going to do? Hex us in front of the whole school?"

The grips on Harry, Blaise and Spencer's wands tightened as Roger, who hadn't drawn his wand, watched them wide-eyed. However, before any Hexes could be thrown, the confrontation was broken up by several teachers, as well as Hagrid the gamekeeper, who had just entered the Great Hall just behind The Guys.

"All righ'!" he said, placing one of his huge arms in front of The Guys. "Tha's enough!"

"Absolutely!" agreed McGonagall. "You should all be ashamed of yourselves, starting fights like this, in the Great Hall of all places!" she scolded. "Fifty points from Slytherin for…"

"Ahem!" interrupted Snape from just behind her. "I believe I am the Head of Slytherin House and, as such, am responsible for discipline on behalf of the students of Slytherin."

McGonagall glowered at Snape. "Very well," she relented.

"Five points from Slytherin for all those who drew their wands," proclaimed Snape – conveniently, the total deduction of points as a result of this was less than McGonagall's proposed point deduction. "Now, either sit down and eat your breakfast or leave," he instructed. "And if I see or hear of either party starting another fight with the other, I will see to it you all serve detentions every weekend for the rest of the year!"

Harry, Blaise and Spencer all glared at Snape, then at the PFBs, before turning and leaving the Great Hall, closely followed by Roger.

"I say we just Hex 'em next time," growled Spencer as they walked down the corridor.

"Better not," mumbled Blaise shaking his head.

"You what?" said Harry incredulously. "You're not actually worried about Snape's threat, are you?"

"No," elaborated Blaise. "It's just that I was this close to trying out the Cruciatus Curse on Cuthbert back there."

"What? No!" exclaimed Roger, wide-eyed. "Guys, this is starting to go too far..."

"Roger, they need standing up to!" shouted Blaise. "It's their kind of racist drivel that almost makes me ashamed to be a pure-blood."

"I know, I know," stammered Roger. "But surely there's a better way – a way that isn't likely to eventually get us expelled."

"Maybe," relented Spencer. "But next time they start with the 'Mudblood' bollocks, they suffer."

"Agreed," nodded Blaise.

"Dementor," Harry said out loud as they approached the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. The portrait nodded and opened up when it heard the password. The four boys stepped up through the portrait hole into the common room. "Look Rodge." Harry continued as they walked towards the boy's staircase. "I know this started out as a bit of revenge for what they did to me, but it's not about that anymore. Someone has to stand up to the Pureblood Fanatics and their whole 'we're better than everyone else' mindset."

"Yeah," agreed Spencer as the boys made their way up the staircase. "Besides, those arrogant bastards deserve to suffer anyway. Most of them're probably Death Eaters in-training anyway."

"Spence!" exclaimed Blaise. "Just because they're PFBs doesn't mean they want to be Death Eaters. I mean, just look at the rest of my family. They're as big a bunch of Pureblood Fanatics as the Malfoys and the Garretts, but they never became Death Eaters."

"Same with Sirius's family," added Harry. "My brother's godfather's a member of the Black family," he elaborated.

"And the Blacks were never really a Death Eater family," said Blaise. "Besides, even if the PFBs parents became Death Eaters, that doesn't mean they all want to do the same. Just look at Nott. His dad was supposedly a Death Eater, and you don't see him being a racist bastard."

"Alright, alright, I'll take back what I said about the PFBs becoming Death Eaters," conceded Spencer. "But they should still suffer for being Pureblood Fanatic Bastards."

"Next time they say anything that even sounds remotely like 'Mudblood', we do something about it," proposed Harry.

"Definitely," agreed Blaise as they entered their dorm.

"Why're you guys taking this so seriously?" Roger asked. "I'm the one they constantly throw insults at. Besides, I'm not worth all this fuss…"

"You're our friend!" interrupted Spencer. "Isn't that reason enough for all this?"

"Look, whether you like it or not, none of us're putting up with their kind of thinking," said Blaise. "I've had to put up with that sort of thinking all my life, even at home from my family. Plus, Hal and Spence's parents nearly died fighting against it," he added, nodding towards his friends.

At that point, Harry decided that Roger probably needed some time alone to think. Hoping that Roger would realise that allowing the PFBs to have their own way wouldn't help, Harry sighed and picked up a piece of parchment from beside his bed. "Alright Rodge," he said. "If you really want us to let them walk all over you and spurn your very existence, then fine. Meanwhile, I have a History of Magic essay to make a start to."

He looked at Spencer and Blaise, hoping they would realise what he was trying to do. They both quickly recognised their friend's intention and the three of them left, leaving Roger alone, or so they thought.

"You think he'll realise they need standing up to?" asked Blaise as the sat down around the fireplace in the common room.

"I hope so," said Spencer. "I suppose we'll just have to wait and see."

"Don't worry," reassured Harry as he smoothed out a piece of parchment. "He's not stupid."

"Yeah, we know that Hal," Spencer responded. "You, Rodge and Hermione Granger are the smartest non-Ravenclaws in our year. I mean, you were the only ones to get that first Potion we were given to do completely right. Even Nott didn't get it perfect, and you know how good he is at just about everything."

"Of course, that's not to say you're perfect at everything either, Hal," added Blaise, his eyes flicking towards the still scarred wall. "Plus it's Saturday and you actually have some homework to do right now."

"What is it anyway?" asked Spencer.

"History of Magic essay," replied Harry. "The one on Goblin rebellions."

"Which one?" said Spencer.

"The 1634 one," answered Harry.

"I meant which essay, Hal," sighed Spencer. "I mean, essays on Goblin rebellions seem to be the only thing we ever do for History of Magic. We've already done three essays on Gobshite, the leader of the 1634 rebellion as it is."

"You mean 'Gopshank'," laughed Blaise.

"Who cares?" retorted Spencer. "Just about all the Goblin rebellions were led by someone named Gobshank or Grishmock or Gimlork or whatever anyway."

"And Gobshite," said Harry. "He was the leader of the 1562 rebellion."

"You're kidding!" exclaimed Spencer. "Right?"

Harry looked at Blaise, trying not to laugh. "What was that you said about Spence being gullible not too long ago?"

"Ha ha, very funny, Hal," muttered Spencer.

"Well I thought it was," grinned Blaise.

A few minutes later, Harry gave up trying to write the essay on the causes of the 1634 Goblin rebellion so the three boys, wondering what was taking Roger so long, decided to go up to their dorm.

"Hey Rodge, you okay?" asked Spencer as they entered. "We were starting to get kinda worried…"

Spencer trailed off as he and the others caught sight of a strange figure in the leather jacket standing in the middle of the room. The three stood in the doorway, staring at both Roger and the stranger.

"Rodge?" said Blaise quietly, hoping that either his friend or the stranger would give an explanation.

Roger sighed and turned his head towards the stranger.

"Harry," said Roger, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Meet the Guys…"

Harry, along with Blaise and Spencer, stared incredulously at Roger and the stranger in the leather jacket.

_Did Rodge just call HIM Harry?_ He regarded the stranger with sheer disbelief. _What the… his forehead! He has the same scar as me_! his thoughts exclaimed as he caught sight of the familiar lightning shaped scar. _Is that me? How's that possible?_ Suddenly, he thought of something. _Oh Merlin, don't tell me Michael did it again_. He groaned out loud and stepped forward. "Michael was mucking about with a Time Turner again, wasn't he?" The other 'Harry' looked at him with a puzzled expression on his face. _Something tells me Michael wasn't the cause of this,_ concluded Harry.

They watched as the stranger shook his head. "Good guess, kid, but the answer's no," he said in a slightly amused voice.

Blaise and Spencer gaped at the Harry in the leather jacket when he spoke. _He sounds just like Hal!_ they both thought simultaneously. By now, between the stranger's voice, appearance and the fact that Roger seemed convinced the stranger was Harry, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that, somehow, someway, this stranger in the leather jacket was indeed Harry Potter. The question that they were all asking themselves now was 'how?'

XxXxXxXxXxX

Ten minutes later, Harry's head was spinning.

_Alternate Reality? Orphaned at the age of one? Only child? Gryffindor? Defeated Voldemort then tried to go back in time? Thirty years old but somehow looks no older than nineteen? _thought Harry incredulously as the other 'Harry' explained his situation. However, there was one more revelation to come, and it came when the other 'Harry' mentioned the blue light that apparently took him from reality to reality.

"Blue light?" mumbled Blaise, as he sprung to his feet and started rummaging through his trunk.

"What's up?" asked Roger as he watched the olive-skinned boy pull out a book from the bottom of his trunk.

"I've heard this before…" muttered Blaise, as he opened the book and started looking for something.

Hearing this, Spencer looked at the Harry in the leather jacket, then at Blaise. "You don't think…?" he asked nervously.

Blaise stopped at a page, read a few words, then looked at the alternate Harry, who sported a confused look on his face at all this. "You…" stammered Blaise. "You're… you're the Lone Traveller… aren't you?" He watched the older version of his friend blink slightly. _He recognises the name!_ Blaise realised as he looked back at the book.

"What're you talking about?" asked Roger, confused by the looks both Blaise and Spencer were giving the Harry sitting on Cuthbert's bed.

Blaise took a few steps forward and handed Roger the book, pointing at the relevant page.

Roger looked at the book and read some of it out loud. "The Lone Traveller…" he muttered. "Young man who tried to change the past and save those he loved… plan failed and became the Lone Traveller, wandering through time and reality, making a difference wherever he went… very powerful… defeated a powerful Dark Lord… swept along the path he walked by a spectacular aura of…" he paused, squinting slightly at the last two words finishing the sentence, "… blue light." He lowered the book slightly and stared at the Harry in the leather jacket.

The Harry Potter native to their reality also stared at the Harry in the leather jacket. _Wait a second… The Lone Traveller? Isn't that supposed to be a myth or something? Is Blaise trying to say there's some other Harry Potter who's a character in a legend?_ Looking over at the young man sitting on Cuthbert's bed, Harry realised that the other him was probably thinking the same thing.

Suddenly, the five of them heard a noise near the doorway - someone was coming up the stairs. "Shit!" muttered Harry. "Someone's coming."

"Cuthbert," mumbled Spencer, glancing at the bed the other Harry was still sitting on.

The Guy's all glanced at the door, trying not to panic. "Quick, hide!" said Blaise, turning to the other Harry, only to find that he was already gone.

_How did he do that? _wondered Harry, having just seen his other self suddenly become invisible. _Maybe I should ask him after…_

"Well, well, well," sneered Severus Snape as he entered the dorm accompanied by Cuthbert Garrett. "Cuthbert here tells me the four of you have a visitor," he glanced around the room and frowned when he saw no-one, other than the four boys, who had every right to be in their own dorm. "Where is he?" he growled.

"Where's who?" asked Spencer in a convincingly innocent voice.

Snape glowered at Spencer, then at Cuthbert, whom Snape knew wasn't lying about his claims, thanks to Legilimency. He drew his wand and addressed the empty room. "If there is anyone here who shouldn't be here, then show yourself!" he barked. When he received no response, he pointed his wand towards the centre of the room and shouted "Finite Incantatum!"

A fairly bright flash filled the room. The Guys watched, trying to hide their concern. The four of them then had to try and hide their relief when nothing happened.

Snape lowered his wand and blinked slightly. The intruder young Cuthbert had told him about had obviously left, but where had he gone? The Potions Master looked around the room, making eye contact with James Potter's less famous son. However, when Snape tried using Legilimency to extract the information he desired from the boys mind, something seemed to block him. He frowned slightly when, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get past whatever it was that was blocking his Legilimency. He then looked at the young Zabini boy and tried again. However, he found that he couldn't access this boy's mind either. He tried to hide his frustration as he tried again on Spencer Westwood, only to come up against the same barrier as before. He tried one last time on the Muggle-born, Roger Appleby. He tried not to curse out loud when he once again found the boy's mind blocked from him. _Surely they cannot all be Occlumens's!_ thought Snape.

Snape glowered at the four boys before exiting the dormitory without a word. Cuthbert stood there and glared at his roommates.

"Who were you talking to?" he demanded to know. "I heard you talking to someone, and I want to know who!"

The Guys looked at each other, trying not to grin.

"Did you hear that guys?" said Blaise, addressing his comrades.

"Indeed we did, Blaze," replied Spencer. "I believe he wants to know something. Do you know what he's talking about, Hal?"

"Indeed I do not," said Harry. "However, I do not feel that any of us should be surprised at a PFB like Cuthbert talking crap, wouldn't you agree, Rodge?"

"Indeed I would, Hal," said Roger, as Cuthbert glowered at him. "After all, we have seen time and time again that Cuthbert here is incapable of any independent, or indeed any kind of thought."

Cuthbert looked at Roger with a mixture of fury and surprise. "What did you just say?" he said in a voice dripping with anger.

The four Guys grinned.

"Oh dear," grinned Spencer. "It appears that Cuthbert here has a hearing problem."

"Or perhaps Cuthbert Cringeworthy is merely proving Rodge's statement as being true," interjected Harry.

"I do believe you are correct Hal," said Blaise. He turned to address Cuthbert. "Perhaps you should go outside and get some air," he suggested to Cuthbert.

"Capital idea, Blaze," agreed Spencer. "Perhaps it'll allow him to air out the cobwebs in the vacant space that would normally accommodate a brain."

"Or cool down any brain cells present," added Roger. "Which will no doubt be starting to overheat due to the strain of interpreting the words we are saying." _Bloody hell,_ thought Roger. _No wonder the Guys love doing this. This is actually kinda fun._

The Guys watched Cuthbert as he struggled to maintain his composure, ready to defend themselves should Cuthbert lose his temper. However, Cuthbert didn't give them an excuse, instead whirling around and storming out of the dormitory.

"He's gone now," Blaise whispered in the direction of the space where the other Harry had been standing. Nothing happened.

"Harry?" said Roger cautiously. "Where are you? Are you still here?"

Suddenly, from partway down the staircase, they heard a strangled cry, a crash and several angry sounding voices yelling "Watch it, Garrett!"

The Guys stood there confused. "What the…?" Spencer began. However, he stopped as the four boys watched as the older Harry faded into view as he came through the door.

"Oh my god…" exclaimed Roger.

"You didn't…" stammered Blaise.

"Did you just…?" said Spencer.

The older Harry looked at them with a sarcastically outraged look on his face. "Now, now," he grinned. "You wouldn't be blaming me for Cuthbert tripping and falling into a group of Slytherin prefects, now would you?"

"Certainly not," said Harry, returning the grin.

Roger looked at the Harry in the leather jacket suspiciously. "How did you do that?" he asked. "Y'know, when Snape…"

"I've been practicing a few new tricks since my 'journey' began," smirked the other Harry.

The boys gave him an impressed look. However, there was something else Roger wanted to ask…

"And when he looked at us and frowned each time," said Roger. "That wasn't anything to do with you, was it?"

The other Harry nodded. "Snape was trying to use Legilimency on you four," he explained. "I managed to block him."

"Snape's a Legilimens?" exclaimed Blaise and Spencer simultaneously.

The other Harry nodded again while Roger looked at him, confused.

"What's a Legilimens?" he asked.

Their Harry answered his question with a suitable Muggle phrase. "It means he's a mind-reader."

"Snape can read minds!" exclaimed Roger. "Isn't there anything we can do to stop him?"

They all looked at the Harry in the leather jacket and saw him smirk slightly. "Occlumency," was all he said in response, tapping his forehead as he did so.

"You were able to block of all our minds from him with Occlumency?" said Blaise.

"Yep," nodded the other Harry. "But I won't be around to block him next time, so I suggest the four of you lean Occlumency as soon as possible – especially you," he added, pointing at Harry. _Merlin, he even points at things the same way our Harry does,_ thought Blaise, Roger and Spencer simultaneously, noting Harry's use of both his index and middle fingers.

Their version of Harry noticed this too as he told the Harry in the leather jacket that he had already tried to find a book on Occlumency in the Library, but was prevented from doing so due to the book being in the Restricted Section.

"No problem," responded Harry's other self. "I'll be back in a little while."

Before anyone could say anything, the other Harry had faded into invisibility and left the The Guys alone in the dorm.

Once he was sure the other Harry was gone, Spencer glared at the Harry they knew. "You knew?" he spluttered angrily. "You knew Snape was a Legilimens and you didn't tell us?"

"What?" exclaimed Harry. "Of course I didn't bloody well know El Slimeball was a Legilimens!"

"Then why'd you try to get stuff on Occlumency from the library?" asked Spencer. "And why didn't you tell us?"

"I did!" said Harry loudly. "I told you I'd tried to get stuff out of the Restricted section several times."

"But you neglected to tell us about the Occlumency part," pointed out Blaise. "Just like you neglected to tell us about the spells in that Potions textbook you nicked from the Potions store."

"Yeah," interjected Roger. "Whatever happened to 'there are no secrets between The Guys'?"

"But I wasn't keeping secrets," mumbled Harry defensively. "I just… didn't tell you… I'm sorry."

There was a long awkward silence between the four boys. Eventually, Harry decided to make himself scarce for a while and hope that the others wouldn't give him the cold shoulder when he got back.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Harry put the finished essay down next to his textbook and sighed. _I should probably go back, just in case the others neglect to tell 'Harry' where to find me, _he thought as he looked out over the lake.

"Hey there, kid," he suddenly heard a voice say.

Harry looked up and saw the Harry in the leather jacket fade into view. "Oh, um, hi… Harry," said Harry, unsure how to address his other self. "God, this is weird."

"How do you think I feel?" smirked his other self. "I have to do this nearly every reality I visit."

"Oh," said Harry, not really sure what else he could say.

"Tell you what…" said the other Harry as he sat down beside his other self. "I'll call you Hal and you call me either Harry or Alec. How does that sound?"

"Alec?" repeated Harry.

"That portrait of Sir what's-his-name wanted to know who I was, so I used the 'Alec Ward' alias and said I was here to visit my 'cousin'," explained 'Alec'.

"Oh. Okay… Alec," mumbled Harry, not sure what to say next. "Umm… nice jacket."

"Thanks," replied 'Alec'. "Y'know, you'd probably suit one of these."

"You think so?" asked Harry.

"I've always had this thing for jackets, leather, fleece, whatever," said 'Alec'. "It was only after I left Hogwarts that I really started wearing them though."

"And the hair?" continued Harry.

"Mainly the result of not having much time to have it cut, though it is pretty useful for hiding this," smirked 'Alec', tapping his scar with two fingers. "What's your excuse?" he added, nodding at Harry's own hair.

"Same reasons, I guess," responded Harry, running his hand through his hair.

"Oh, by the way," said 'Alec' suddenly, taking several books out of his pocket. "I swiped these from the Restricted Section, but I suggest you get your own copies the first chance you get. Madam Pince doesn't check the Restriced Section often, but she'll realise these are missing eventually."

Harry took the books from 'Alec' and looked at them. "Um… sorry to sound dense, but where in Merlin's name am I going to get my own copies of these?" He held up a copy of 'Advanced Level Spells & Incantations'. "Have you any idea what kind of questions will be asked if I try to buy this in Flourish & Blotts, even if they do sell anything on wandless magic or Occlumency?"

"I didn't get my stuff on wandless magic and Occlumency in Diagon Alley," said 'Alec' cryptically.

"So where…?" began Harry.

"Knockturn Alley," interrupted 'Alec'.

"Knockturn Alley?" exclaimed Harry. "And just how am I going to get anything in Knockturn Alley? I mean, Mum went ballistic last time I tried to go down there, and next time, she and Dad'll probably not let me out of their sight just to make sure I don't try again," he added, trying not to wince at the very public yelling-at he'd received from his mother that day.

"Then go shopping on your own," replied 'Alec'.

"On my own?" said Harry. "How? What would I say if someone asked where I was going?"

"Well, it's December, isn't it?" said 'Alec'. "Just say you're going Christmas shopping."

Harry looked at the books on his lap. "This is quite a collection you've assembled. Occlumency, Legilimency…"

"Both very useful," said 'Alec'.

"…wandless magic, animagi, apparition, metamorphmagi…" continued Harry, looking up at 'Alec' when he mentioned the last book.

"Apparently, I had an great uncle on my Dad's side who was a Metamorphmagus," explained 'Alec'. "Tonks did a test on me at some point and it revealed that I could probably do it once I learned the basics." He took another book out of his pocket. "That's why I'm borrowing this. Apparently, once you've learned the basics, the rest just comes naturally, though all I really need is a full proof way of hiding this accursed scar."

"Wait, you mean Dad's uncle Gerald, right?" said Harry. "You think we could both have taken after him?"

"Maybe," replied 'Alec'. "Hold on, you mean you weren't tested when you were a kid? I thought all wizards with Metamorph relatives got tested when they were young."

"Michael got tested when we were two," answered Harry bitterly. "Annie got tested when she was three. I guess my parents just haven't got around to trying me yet."

"Oh," said 'Alec'. "I'm gather you don't get along with the rest of your family, right?"

Harry nodded. "Sometimes I wonder if they realise they have two sons, not just 'Mr Celebrity', Michael Potter."

"They do, Hal. Trust me," said 'Alec'. "In fact, I know for a fact that Michael feels bad about that argument you two had in the Hospital Wing."

Harry looked at him, wide-eyed. "What? How did you find out about that?"

"I overheard Michael and my… his friends at breakfast while I was trying to find out if you existed in this reality or not," explained 'Alec'. "He told them, for the first time I might add, about the row you two had. I also heard him admit that you have just as much chance of being the 'Boy-Who-Lived' as he does."

"Michael said that?" asked Harry incredulously.

"He did," nodded 'Alec'. "And apparently, your mother's hoping you'll come back for Christmas this year."

"Really?" said Harry equally incredulously. "You sure?"

'Alec' nodded again. "Even if they don't make it obvious, your family does care about you. Just don't cut yourself off from them and they always will."

There was a long silence before 'Alec' rather abruptly changed the subject.

"By the way," he said. "What did the hat say to you during the Sorting?"

"What?" exclaimed Harry, before remembering that his leather jacket wearing counterpart had been a Gryffindor.

"The Sorting Hat," elaborated 'Alec'. "I'm sure it put you in Slytherin for a reason."

Harry looked away slightly. "I… it said I'd do well in all the houses and reckoned I'd probably do best in Slytherin. It then asked me if I had any preferences…"

"And you agreed with the hat and chose Slytherin?" said 'Alec', though Harry could tell he knew there was more to it than that.

"I said I didn't mind as long as it didn't put me in with my brother," finished Harry.

"Whereas I said 'anywhere but Slytherin' because of Malfoy and the whole 'pure-blood superiority' ideology," mumbled 'Alec'. "And I suppose Snape still hates you, regardless of which house you're in."

"Yeah," nodded Harry. "Spence is even convinced Snape tried to jinx my broom in that first Quidditch match, but I don't think it was him."

'Alec' blinked slightly, as if remembering something.

"So, uh, who do you think did it?" he asked cautiously.

"Dunno," said Harry, eying his other self suspiciously. "I don't suppose you know, do you?"

"Well, yeah, I do," said 'Alec' carefully. "Look, you haven't noticed anything weird about Quirinus Quirrell, have you?"

"You mean, have I noticed the stutter that lasts whole sentences, the way he looks at me and the fact that my scar seems to hurt when I'm around him?" asked Harry sarcastically.

'Alec' sighed and nodded.

"But why would he try to kill me?" asked Harry. "I haven't done anything to him."

"You have to the person who's commandeering him though," replied 'Alec'.

"Commandeering him? You mean with the Imperius curse?" exclaimed Harry.

"No. Not with the Imperius curse. I'll give you a clue though," said 'Alec', tapping his scar with both index and middle fingers. "Before I learned Occlumency, this thing would hurt if Voldemort was feeling a strong emotion like anger or happiness. It also hurt whenever he was nearby."

"Voldemort? Nearby?" exclaimed Harry. "You mean Voldemort's here? But how? Why?" He paused slightly. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the third floor being out of bounds, or that Troll that was set loose on Halloween, would it?"

'Alec' nodded. "There was a break-in at Gringotts over the summer," he said. "The item that was nearly stolen was brought here for safekeeping."

"Item?"

"Ask Michael. He and his friends are already on the trail to finding out about it," said 'Alec'. "Or you could just look up Nicholas Flamel the Alchemist yourself."

"Nicholas Flamel?" said Harry, his mind already racing. _Where have I heard that name before? _he wondered. "What about the Troll? There's a rumour going around that it was supposed to be guarding something before it got loose."

'Alec' shook his head. "The Troll was just a distraction by Quirrell as he tried to get the Stone, but Snape headed him off before he got the chance," he said. "It's actually a Cerberus that's guarding the trapdoor," he then added.

"Stone?" mumbled Harry.

"That's another hint, by the way," smirked 'Alec'.

There was another slight pause as Harry's mind processed what it had just learned.

"So, Alec, anything else I should know?" asked Harry.

"Plenty of things," replied 'Alec'. "But there probably isn't enough time." He looked at the pile of schoolwork beside Harry. "Are you going to use this?" he asked as he picked up a piece of blank parchment.

"No," said Harry. "I've just finished the History of Magic essay I had to do."

Before Harry could ask what Harry was doing, 'Alec' had pulled out his wand and tapped his own forehead with it, before tapping the blank piece of parchment, which made the parchment glow slightly for a moment. He then handed the piece of parchment back to Harry.

Harry looked at the parchment curiously, then at 'Alec'. "What did you just do?"

"I put a few useful bits of information from my mind into that parchment," replied 'Alec'. "If you need information or advice that you can't get from anywhere else, then consult this thing."

Harry looked incredulously at the blank piece of paper. "How?"

"It works the same way as the Marauder's Map," elaborated 'Alec'. "You have to say the password, or should I say, pass-phrase."

"And what is the 'pass-phrase'?" asked Harry.

"Just put your hand on it and say 'I seek the advice of The Lone Traveller'," said 'Alec'.

Harry grinned when he heard this. "Lone Traveller, eh?"

'Alec' returned the grin and shrugged. "Yeah, well, I thought I may as well use that name, seeing as it probably is me."

Harry nodded. "So I just say that and ask it anything I need to know?"

"Pretty much," said 'Alec'. "But only if it's absolutely necessary."

Harry looked at the blank piece of parchment for a few seconds before putting it in his pocket.

"Um, look," said Harry awkwardly. "Based on the fact that you were the only candidate for being the 'Boy-Who-Lived' and all that gaff, what would your advice be for a 'Boy-Who-Lived' who officially isn't?"

"You mean, you want to know whether it would be worth revealing the truth?" said 'Alec'. "I can't really say. Besides, it's not really my place to tell you whether or not to reveal the truth to the world, though I will say that if you do, you might find yourself the target of a smear campaign like I was when Voldemort came back. It was over a year before the Ministry finally admitted the truth, but by then, I'd already been denounced as being a disturbed, deceitful, attention-seeking, show-off by the Daily Prophet."

"So you think I should keep things under wraps?" concluded Harry.

"I think you should let others figure it out for themselves," said 'Alec'. "Though I have a feeling that you were planning to do that anyway, am I right?"

Harry nodded and said nothing.

With that, 'Alec' got to his feet and looked at his other self. "Oh, and Harry," he said, using his other self's real name. "Trust your friends."

"Wh… what d'you mean?" stammered Harry.

"I'm guessing you didn't tell your friends of your attempts to learn Occlumency, judging by their reactions when you told me," concluded 'Alec'. "It's not a good idea to keep too many things to yourself, especially from friends like yours."

Harry looked away slightly when Harry said this.

'Alec' sighed slightly. _Oh Merlin, _thought Harry. _First thing I do when I get back is apologise to the Guys again, _he promised himself.

"Hey, Hal," said 'Alec' suddenly. Harry looked back up at him. "Take care of yourself, alright? And good luck."

Harry nodded slightly as the Lone Traveller turning away and took a few steps before being engulfed by a pulsing blue light. For a few seconds, the pale blue glow shone with great intensity as white shards of light flew in all directions and what sounded like a cross between a Phoenix singing and a choir echoed around him before a bright flash heralded his departure.

Harry stared at the spot where his other self had been standing and let out an impressed whistle. _That book of Blaise's wasn't kidding when it said 'spectacular aura of blue light', _he thought as he gathered his stuff and started walking back towards the castle.

-

**AUTHOR'S NOTES.**

As with chapter one, I've used several slightly edited chunks of the Lone Traveller chapters (6,7,8 & 9), mainly to keep the two stories synchronised, though I will admit that laziness was also a factor.

**Romance with Cho? **– Simple answer: No. Friends, maybe, but no romance between Harry and Cho.

**The Howler – **Defending yourself is one thing, but I'm sure anyone's parents would consider breaking someone's nose overkill.

Anyway, the pre-Traveller part is now finally out of the way. Now I can get back to the more long-term arcs.


	9. Christmas Shopping

**SUMMARY**

Harry James Potter is the only person to have ever survived the Avada Kedavra curse. Unfortunately, his twin brother, Michael Stephen Potter, mistakenly proclaimed as the Boy-Who-Lived'. As he grows up, Harry becomes withdrawn and distant from his family. However, when Harry and Michael receive their Hogwarts letters, Harry sees it as a chance to finally prove to himself and to everyone else who the true 'Boy-Who-Lived' is…

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see. Also thanks to those who have encouraged this spin-off the 'The Lone Traveller'

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER NINE – Christmas Shopping.**

Harry's thoughts had continued to dwell on the Lone Traveller for the rest of that Saturday. Quidditch practise, from what little he'd actually paid attention to, was the same as always, while dinner had been rushed by all of The Guys, mainly so they could all get back to their dorm and look through the many books the Lone Traveller had obtained for them from the Restricted section. While Spencer and the others had spent most of the evening looking through the Animagi books, Harry had discovered something in one of the more advanced spellbooks that possibly explained the Lone Traveller's ability to completely disappear.

'_Disillusio Maximus – a variant of the Disillusionment charm that makes a person or object completely transparent, rendering them completely invisible_', Harry read to himself. _Interesting. Rodge did mention him saying something about disillusionment, so this may be what he meant._ However, when he re-entered the dorm, Cuthbert's presence prevented Harry from trying out the spell.

_Maybe tomorrow, _he thought when they all finally decided to go to sleep.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Normally when Harry woke up, he woke up facing the window and its view of the lake. However, as he woke up the next morning, he noticed something about the scene outside the window was different.

Everything outside was white.

Sitting up slightly, it took Harry a few seconds to realise why everything was white. Getting up, he went over to the window and opened, but only for a few seconds as a cold breeze immediately blew through the window. _Merlin, it's cold out, _shivered Harry as he slammed the window back down, waking everyone up in the process.

"Huh? Wha…" exclaimed Blaise. "What time is it?"

"Quarter to eight," mumbled Roger.

"Aw c'mon, Hal, it's a Sunday," complained Spencer. "Have a lie in for once."

"Well, yes it is a Sunday," admitted Harry. "But this is Sunday the seventh of December."

"What are you blabbering about Potter?" groaned Cuthbert, as he rolled over, now facing away from Harry.

Grinning slightly, Harry opened the window and grabbed a handful of snow from the ledge.

A few seconds later, Cuthbert let out a squawk and leapt out of bed as a snowball hit him in the back of the neck.

"You little…" he growled, wiping the snow off his neck. "So immature," he muttered as his roommates fell about laughing.

"Well, you wanted to know what I was 'blabbering on about', didn't you?" replied Harry. "And there's your answer – the reason that today, the seventh day of the twelfth month of this year 1997, is so noteworthy is due to the abundance of snow."

"How much snow?" asked Blaise.

"Enough for a small army of snowmen and one hell of a snowball fight," answered Harry, moving to one side so the others could see out of the window.

"Whoa!" gasped Roger as he saw the surroundings covered with thick snow. "Look at it all."

"Who cares?" sneered Cuthbert as he got out of bed. "Stupid Mudbloods…" he muttered under his breath.

"Give it a rest, Garrett!" retorted Roger.

Like the day before, Cuthbert was completely taken by surprise. Not only was it not normal for Roger Appleby to talk back, but it was also unusual for him to refer to anyone else by their last name to their faces. However, Cuthbert concluded that Roger was just trying to look brave and would no doubt back down if the exchange continued. "My, my, my, it appears that you've finally found yourself a backbone, Appleby," he sneered.

"I think you'll find I've developed more than a backbone, Garrett," Roger replied, grabbing his wand from his bedside table and pointing it straight at Cuthbert. "Now are you gonna shut up, or am I gonna have to shut you up myself?"

Cuthbert stood there, gaping slightly. _Is… is Appleby threatening me? How dare he! That impudent Mudblood! _Underestimating Roger's reflexes, Cuthbert reached for his own wand.

"Expelliarmus!" yelled Roger, causing a jet of red light to send Cuthbert's wand flying out of his hand just as he grabbed it.

"You'll regret this, Appleby!" Cuthbert snarled before running out of the dorm, grabbing his wand from the floor as he went.

As Roger lowered his wand, the others let out a cheer.

"Nice one, Rodge!" congratulated Spencer.

"Way to put him in his place!" added Blaise.

"So what's changed?" Harry wondered out loud. "I mean with you standing up to Garrett like that."

"Well, let's just say I got a general idea of what the Roger Appleby who let the PFBs walk all over him's life was like," said Roger as he reached out and grabbed a T-shirt. "And let's just say, I didn't really like what I heard. Besides, let's face it, one Harry Potter is hard enough to argue with, but two? Not a chance?"

"Thanks Rodge," replied Harry sarcastically as he too started to get dressed while the others laughed. "Now, how about we go and get some breakfast before Cuthbert Cringeworthy comes back."

"And while the Toast is hot too, right Hal?" grinned Blaise.

"Yes, that too," admitted Harry as he checked his trunk to make sure it was locked. "Plus, I want to make sure I win this year."

"Win what?" asked Blaise.

"Every year there's a sort of unspoken competition between me and Michael to see who can nail the other with a snowball first," explained Harry. "He's always won for as long as I can remember, but seeing as I'm already outdoing him at just about everything else right now, then there's no reason why I shouldn't beat him to the draw this year. Besides, I need to get back on speaking terms with him anyway…"

XxXxXxXxXxX

"What's got you so jumpy this morning, mate?" Ron asked as Michael looked over his shoulder for the fifth time.

"Just this competition me and Harry have every year whenever it snows," replied Michael. "Basically, the first person to hit the other with a snowball wins, though I usually win 'cause Harry never really bothers. Annie sometimes joins the competition too, though."

"But I thought you and Harry weren't speaking still," Hermione interjected, her voice muffled slightly by her scarf.

"We're not. That's why I have a sneaking suspicion he'll try it this year," said Michael. "That's the thing about Harry that probably makes him a Slytherin – he's completely unpredictable. You can never really tell what he's gonna do at any given time, which…"

Suddenly, Michael felt something cold hit the back of his head and heard a triumphant yell from behind him.

_Oh bugger, _Michael thought as he turned around, just in time to duck as another snowball came flying in their direction.

"Wh…" began Ron as he turned around, only to be interrupted by the snowball in question colliding with his face.

"Oh, c'mon, surely you lot aren't going to let a bunch of Slytherins get away with snowballing you, are you? Show some Gryffindor pride already!" taunted the voice of Michael's brother from a short distance away.

_So does this mean he's forgiven me for whatever it is I said to him? _wondered Michael as he yelled back a generic 'you're going down' type retort and grabbed a handful of snow.

Before long, a full blown war had broken out, at first between The Guys and The Trio, as Michael and his friends were known, before descending into an all out free-for-all once the Weasley twins and a group of Hufflepuffs, then Ravenclaws and yet more Gryffindors joined in. Even some Slytherins joined the fray at one point, though the PFBs did not appear to be among them. Not even Snape, who deducted several points from Gryffindor after being hit by a snowball actually thrown by Spencer, could stop the Battle Royal that was now taking place just outside the main door of the castle. Eventually, however, The Guys were forced to retreat from the battlefield as it became impossible to tell who was who in amongst the flying snow. Ducking stray snowballs as they went, they ran through the main door back into the castle.

"Oh well, so much for that," sighed Harry, brushing the snow off his jumper. "It just had to turn into a free-for-all, didn't it?"

"At least you won your little brotherly competition," said Blaise. "And he'll probably be more likely to talk to you now he knows you're not avoiding him anymore."

"Yeah, I guess…" replied Harry.

"Well, I don't know 'bout you guys, but I'll go back to our dorm and do some _studying_," said Roger, emphasising the word 'studying'.

"Yeah, me too," agreed Spencer.

"Sounds good," added Blaise.

"In a while," said Harry. "But first, I'm gonna at least try and have some kind of conversation with my brother."

"Alright, Hal, we'll see you later then," said Spencer as Harry turned around and headed back the way they'd came.

"Potter!" barked a familiar voice, just as Harry was about to go back outside. "A word, if you'll please."

_Oh bloody hell, what now? _wondered Harry as he turned and faced his least favourite teacher. "Yes, professor?"

"In my office, if you'll please," said Snape as he turned around and led Harry to his office.

_Why does he always say 'if you'll please'?_ wondered Harry as he followed his Head of House. _I mean, it's not as if he ever gives people a choice. Oh well, just as long as he doesn't try any of that Legilimency crap with me…_

"Now, Potter," said Snape as he sat down on the chair behind his desk. "Perhaps you can inform me as to why Cuthbert Garrett has asked to transfer to the other first year dorm for the fifth time in just three months."

"Um…" said Harry, uncertain how to respond. "Because he doesn't like us?"

Snape's eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes, Potter, I gathered that," he sighed irritably. "But what I want to know is why he doesn't like you. Exactly what is it that you and your friends are doing to make your fellow students hate you?"

"First off, they're not our 'fellow' students', Professor," said Harry a bit more forcefully than intended. "And the reason they hate us is because we're not racist or elitist like they are."

"Mr Potter, those are some very strong words." said Snape calmly. "I hope there is some truth to them…"

"They use the term 'mudblood' freely," said Harry loudly. "They attacked me for liking Muggle music. They constantly call me, Blaise and Spencer 'blood-traitors' and 'mudblood lovers'. They think they're better than everyone else. They whine and complain when they don't get their own way. They treat other people like filth. You even gave them detention for trying to beat up Roger a few weeks ago. They also…"

"Mr Potter!" interrupted Snape. "Kindly moderate your tone while you are in my presence."

"I apologise, _Professor,_" said Harry with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. _Oh Merlin, what am I doing, being confrontational with Snape of all people? This place really must be messing with my head…_

"Perhaps, Potter, I should…" Snape began, before being interrupted by a loud clatter just outside Snape's office. "Peeves…" he muttered angrily as he got up and went to the door, just in time to see the snickering form of Peeves the Poltergeist float through the ceiling just above the remnants of one of the corridor's suits of armour.

Muttering angrily to himself, Snape quickly dismissed Harry and told him to leave before sitting back down, not noticing that some of the Floo powder next to his fireplace was missing.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"So, how did it go?" asked Spencer.

"You mean with Michael?" replied Harry. "Didn't even get to speak to him. Snape took me to one side. Apparently Garrett's just tried to get a transfer downstairs to Dorm A yet again. Anyway, Peeves decided to choose that moment to wreck a suit of armour, so Snape dismissed me," Harry paused slightly. "Hey, uh, where's Rodge got to?"

"Library," said Blaise and Spencer simultaneously.

"Oh," was all that Harry responded with as he opened his trunk and grabbed one of the advanced spellbooks. As he did so, he noticed a blank piece of parchment still sitting in his trunk. _I should probably see what that thing actually does at some point, _Harry thought as he sat down on his bed and opened the book in his hands to a certain page. After a few minutes reading, Harry decided to try out a certain spell. Grabbing his wand, Harry pointed it at himself.

"Disillusio Maximus," he said out loud. "Well? Did it work?" he asked after a few seconds, though the looks on his friends' faces told him that something had happened at the very least.

"Um… well, it's pretty good for a first attempt," said Blaise after a slight pause.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Well… if you squint a bit…" said Spencer, doing just that as he spoke. "You can sort of see an outline, but otherwise, you're more or less invisible."

"Really?" asked Harry. He got up and went over to a mirror in the corner. At first, he saw no reflection, but after a few seconds, he could indeed see that he wasn't completely invisible. In fact, the effects were pretty much the same as a normal Disillusionment spell, only with less of a shimmering blur effect. "Oh well. I guess I'll have to practice this one a bit," sighed Harry. "Now, what's the counterspell for this…?"

Just then, Roger burst into the dorm, clearly trying not to panic. "Guys!" he said frantically. "Bad news – I think Pince's noticed the books're missing from the Restricted Section. I saw her looking through it just now, and she didn't look too happy when she looked at her borrowed books list."

"What?" exclaimed Harry, causing Roger to quite visibly jump at the unseen voice. _So much for 'she doesn't check the Restricted Section often', _he thought as he walked back to his bed.

"If they find out we've got them…" began Spencer.

"Oh Merlin, we'll be doing detention from now until fifth year!" groaned Blaise.

"Alright guys, don't panic," said Harry as he reappeared beside his bed, having found the counterspell he was looking for. "Here's what we're gonna do. First, we'll have to either get these books back to the library without anyone noticing, or we'll have to plant them on someone worthy of major trouble."

"I vote we plant them on Malfoy." interjected Spencer half-jokingly, no doubt trying to lighten the mood.

"We'll have to get our fingerprints off the books first, just in case," added Roger.

"Hold on, we can't just get rid of these books so soon," protested Blaise. "I mean, Harry… the other Harry went to all the trouble of getting them for us."

"That's where I come in," said Harry. "I was going to do this next weekend, but I guess I'll have to do it right now."

"Do what?" asked Blaise.

Harry pulled a small pouch out of his pocket and grinned. "Floo powder – I nicked it from Snape's office while he was distracted with Peeves. But I'll need you guys to cover for me, and make sure no-one's by the fireplace in the common room in about three hours time."

"Why? Where're you going?" asked Roger.

Harry replied with another grin as he waved the pouch of Floo powder in front of him. "Just take care of those Library books. Meanwhile, I think it's about time I went and did a bit of Christmas shopping."

XxXxXxXxXxX

As Harry stepped out of the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron, he suddenly remembered how much he hated travelling by Floo. _Right, it's just gone eleven o'clock, so that gives me 'til two to get everything done, _he thought as he looked at his watch and made his way through the tavern. As he went, he ignored a few curious looks from people who were no doubt wondering what a young boy like him was doing there on his own and why he wasn't at school.

_Now, it's this one, _thought Harry as he pulled out his wand and started tapping several bricks on the brick wall just outside the back door of the Leaky Cauldron. _This one… this one… and… no, wait, it's this one._ As he tapped the last brick, the bricks he'd tapped receded into the wall and the wall began to open up, revealing the entrance to Diagon Alley.

The first thing Harry did was go to Gringotts, where he took several Galleons from his trust fund, before heading towards Diagon Alley's less reputable counterpart, Knockturn Alley, when he suddenly realised just how cold it was. _Oh great! Nice one, Harry, _he groaned. _You change out of your soaking wet jumper, but you forget to put a jacket on before coming here. Oh well, at least it hasn't snowed here, but, good grief, it's cold._ Putting his hand into his pocket, he realised that he'd taken more money from his account than he actually needed for both the replacement books and presents for his family. As he realised this, he also realised that he was just walking past a clothes shop a few doors down from Gambol & Japes' Joke Shop. _'You'd probably suit one of these', _he remembered 'Alec' saying. _I wonder…_

A few minutes later, Harry emerged from the clothes shop wearing a dark brown leather jacket, which seemed to go well with his jeans and black jumper.

_Well, I can certainly see why this place has such a negative reputation, _thought Harry as he walked through Knockturn Alley a few minutes afterwards. _Wait a minute… are… oh my god, are those fingers? Human fingers? _Trying not to gape at the stall in question, Harry carried on walking until he found a bookshop, in which he found all of the books on the list he had made, plus a few more that caught his interest. _'Incantations & Spells of Great Power', 'Non-verbal Charms & Spells', 'The Ultimate Collection of Wandless spells' – Merlin, this place is a gold mine! _Surprisingly, Harry had little problem when he went up to the counter of the empty shop with nearly a dozen books that would have attracted a lot of suspicion if he were in Flourish & Blotts. After shrinking the books and placing them in his jacket pocket, Harry decided to take a better look around Knockturn Alley while he had time.

"Borgin & Burkes," mumbled Harry quietly as he read out the sign above a rather dingy looking shop that advertised all sorts of strange and possibly dark items. He had heard this place mentioned by his father a few times and had been told that no respectable wizard would be found anywhere near that place. Then again, no respectable wizard would be found anywhere near Knockturn Alley either, so it couldn't hurt to take a look around this one shop, could it? Besides, the reason Harry had tried to go down Knockturn Alley during the summer was to see what the fuss was all about, so there was no reason why the same couldn't apply to this one shop.

"Can I help you, young sir?" asked a voice behind the counter as Harry entered the shop.

"Um… no, I'm just, uh, looking around, thanks," said Harry, wishing he could just take off the beanie hat Roger had given him, but he knew he couldn't, no matter how uncomfortable it was now that he was inside in the warm. After all, if anyone caught a glimpse of his scar, then he would probably be recognised as 'Michael Potter's brother' and his parents would probably find out about his little 'excursion', which probably wouldn't be a good thing for Harry. Luckily, Roger's beanie hat covered his forehead, and indeed most of his hair, which had no doubt saved him from recognition by everyone in the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley. It was probably also the reason why Borgin, or Burke for all Harry knew, merely left Harry to look around. Just a few minutes later, something that wouldn't be considered 'dark' or dangerous' caught Harry's attention.

_Are those mirrors? _wondered Harry as he moved closer to what appeared to be five small pocket mirrors. _Hold on… they look just like those mirrors Dad and Sirius sometimes use to talk to each other. If these are the same thing, then… wait, if these're the same type of mirrors Dad and Sirius have, then that means they must've got 'em here! And Dad had the audacity to tell me off for thinking of going down here the first time! Still, these could be useful if I get some for me and The Guys…_

"Ah, I see you are interested in Burke's old Communication Mirrors," said the shopkeeper, who Harry now guessed to be 'Borgin', as he re-entered the main part of the shop.

_So they are the same as Dad and Sirius's mirrors. Sweet! _"How much for four of these things?" asked Harry, trying not to sound too eager.

"Four?" said Borgin. "Ah yes, well, these five have been in this shop so long, that I'm offering them all for the rather generous sum of five Galleons. And I'm afraid it's either all of them or none of them, young man. I cannot simply sell some of them and keep the others."

_But I only need four, _Harry wanted to say. _What the hell am I going to use the fifth one for? _However, Harry kept quiet and looked at them again – five Galleons was a very good price for five 'Communication Mirrors' as Borgin called them, especially when Harry considered that a wand usually cost about the same, if not more as his had. _Besides, I have more than enough money on me, _thought Harry. _Alright then, I'll buy 'em._

So he did.

After that, Harry returned to Diagon Alley and decided that he should get some presents for his family, seeing as he would probably be going home for Christmas after all. It would also be a good cover if something were to go wrong and Harry did get found out. Looking at his watch, Harry saw that he had just under an hour before he said he would go back. However, when he had finished buying a few presents for his family, he looked at his watch again and noticed that something was wrong.

_Um… why does this still say it's five past one? _He tapped the face of his watch a few times before realising that it had completely stopped._ Oh crap, _thought Harry, trying not to panic for the second time that weekend. _Um… okay, everything's fine. I just need to figure out what time it is so I can get back as scheduled. Now, what's that spell Dad always uses to tell the time? Hold on… Oh, wait, that's not it… Damnit, what is it? Something in Latin… time… time… what's the Latin word for 'time'? _

Unfortunately, no matter how hard he tried, Harry just couldn't remember the word he was looking for. He'd heard his dad use it so many times, so why couldn't he remember it right now? _Oh well, guess I'll just have to ask someone, _thought Harry as he re-entered the Leaky Cauldron. He tried using a 'reparo' on his watch, which seemed to get it working again, so all he really needed was for someone to tell him the time.

"Excuse me," said Harry, addressing Tom the Barman. "I don't suppose you have the time, do you?"

Tom looked at the bespectacled boy and obliged. "Of course, young sir. It's five minutes to two."

"Five to two," muttered Harry as he set his watch to the new time. _Five minutes. I suppose I'd better just go back now and hope the Guys have the coast clear when I get back._ "Thanks," Harry added before walking towards the fireplace.

However, just as he was about to grab some Floo powder and return to Hogwarts, someone snatched Roger's hat off his head.

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, reaching out for the hat as he turned around. "Give that… back," he said, trailing off as he realised who he was talking to. "Oh… uh… hi Dad."

"What are you doing here?" asked James in a plain, no-nonsense voice. "Shouldn't you be at Hogwarts?"

"Um… yeah. Funny you should mention that seeing as I was just about to go back just now," said Harry quickly. "So if you'll excuse me, I'll just be going…" he continued, turning towards the fireplace, only to feel a hand clamp down on his shoulder.

"Harry," said his father forcefully. "You know you could get in a lot of trouble for being out of school, even if it is a Sunday."

"I know," mumbled Harry as he turned back to face his father.

"And you do know that my job is to apprehend rule-breakers," continued James.

_No, Dad, your job is to apprehend law-breakers, _thought Harry, though he didn't dare say this out loud. "Yes, Dad," Harry mumbled instead.

"But I also have to decide whether a person's rule breaking was justified based on what I've seen and they've told me," added James. "So, if you want to tell me why you're breaking at least three major rules, if I remember correctly, then maybe I might let you get back on your way and 'forget' to mention this to your mother."

Harry looked up, trying not to look surprised – was his father offering to let him off? _Wait a sec… what did he mean by 'if I remember correctly'? _he wondered, before coming to the obvious, and indeed correct, conclusion. _Okay, so Dad has done something like this before. Maybe I am right about him getting those mirrors in Knockturn Alley after all…_

"Well?" his father said expectantly.

"Um… yeah, well, I sorta figured I'd come here and get some Christmas shopping done while I had some free time," said Harry, hoping that his father's Legilimency wouldn't detect the fact that Harry was only telling part of the truth.

"Christmas shopping?" asked James sceptically. "Who for? Your friends at Hogwarts?"

"Um… yeah… partly," said Harry. "But we're, uh, not going to be at Hogwarts together at Christmas. Blaze and Spence have to go home and Rodge's parents want to see him too, so I was kinda wondering if I could… come home for Christmas?"

James looked at Harry curiously for a second, wondering why his son was sounding so hesitant until he remembered their last meeting. "Merlin's beard…" he muttered. "Of course you can come home for Christmas, Harry. You don't honestly think we wouldn't want you home, do you?"

Harry thought it would be best if he didn't answer, still hoping his father wouldn't forget his own 'no Legilimency on the children' rule. Instead, he decided to try and excuse himself from the conversation, partly because the rest of the Leaky Cauldron was watching them with amused interest.

"Um, Dad…" said Harry carefully. "The Guys'll be waiting for me to come through and I don't think they'll be able to keep the coast clear forever…"

"Okay, Harry. Go, but don't let me catch you out of school without permission again," relented James, handing back the hat still in his hand. However, as Harry put the hat back on and grabbed a handful of Floo powder, James asked one last thing.

"By the way, you didn't go down Knockturn Alley, did you?"

"No, Dad," replied Harry. "I didn't."

However, as he threw the Floo powder into the fire and stepped through, he knew that, even without Legilimency, his father probably hadn't believed him.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"About time, Hal," said Spencer as Harry emerged from the fireplace into an empty Slytherin common room. "Um… hold on, what was it we were s'posed to remember? Oh yeah, Point was in here not too long ago and asked us to tell you Quidditch practice is on Wednesday afternoon."

"Thanks, Spence," replied Harry as he emptied his pockets and cancelled out the shrinking spells he'd placed on their contents. He then separated the stuff he'd brought for his family from everything else.

"Nice jacket, Hal," noted Blaise as Spencer picked up the book on Animagi. "Very Lone Traveller-esque."

"Except this jacket isn't black," pointed out Harry.

"Details, details," retorted Blaise. "But I guess it does suit you… ah, wait. He probably suggested it to you, didn't he?"

"Indeed he did, Blaze." nodded Harry. "Oh, and thanks for the hat, Rodge," he added, removing the hat form his head and tossing it over to Roger.

"So I'm guessing it worked then," said Roger as he caught it.

"For the most part," sighed Harry. "It didn't work against Dad though."

"Your Dad?" exclaimed Spencer. "You mean you got caught?"

Harry responded with another nod. "He sorta let me off with a warning though. He usually does that if it's something that's not really doing any harm or it's something he's done himself at some point. Unfortunately, that only happens when Mum's not around, otherwise, wham – instant trouble."

"So where does this leave us?" asked Roger. "I mean, does he know what you were up to or what?"

"Potentially, yes," said Harry. "He's a Legilimens – not a master, but still good enough to tell when someone's lying. Fortunately, there's a sort of unspoken rule that he doesn't use Legilimency against family members, but there have been times where he's 'forgotten' about that little rule, so there is a chance he knows I wasn't telling the whole truth about what I was doing there. Oh, that reminds me…" Harry picked up one of the mirrors and held it up. "I got these in Borgin & Burkes. They're called 'Communication Mirrors' – I think you can probably figure out what they do, right?"

"You mean, you can talk to one another through these things?" said Spencer, picking up one of the other mirrors.

"Yup," confirmed Harry. "Just like the ones my dad and Sirius have. You just say the name of the person who has another mirror and then talk away."

"So it's like a mobile phone," said Roger. "It's a telephone you can carry around with you," he elaborated when he received no response. "My dad has one."

"Mobile phones," mumbled Harry to himself. "Yeah, I guess you could say these are like telephones. Anyway, all we have to do is take one each then after that, all we'd have to do is say the person's name and we'll be able to talk, even if that person is on the other side of Hogwarts or something."

"Nice," said Spencer approvingly. "Hey, wait a minute, why did you get five? What do we need a spare for?"

"I had to buy them all or none at all," shrugged Harry. "Still, not too bad for five Galleons, eh?"

"Five?" exclaimed Blaise incredulously. "Five Galleons for five of these things? Not bad, Hal. Not bad at all."

"Is that good?" asked Roger, still unfamiliar with the dynamics of wizarding currency.

"Well, if you consider a good wand costs at least six or seven Galleons, then yeah, it is good," said Spencer.

"So, we now have replacement books, some magic mirrors and Hal has a new jacket," smirked Blaise. "Like I said, not bad at all."

"Speaking of which, did you guys manage to get those books back to the library?" asked Harry, suddenly remembering the reason he had gone to Diagon Alley in the first place.

"No," replied Blaise, shaking his head. "We had to plant them."

"Don't worry, we planted them on people that deserved it," said Spencer. "The PFBs got a few, though we didn't try to plant any on Parkinson or Bulstrode, mainly 'cause of the 'anti-boy' charms on the stairs."

"We couldn't give Flint many either 'cause it'd be very suspicious if he was found with more than two or three books," interjected Blaise. "Same went for Crabbe & Goyle."

"Still, there were plenty of worthy candidates," noted Spencer. "Let's see… we gave Urquhart a few, Montague got the one on Animagi… who else? Oh yeah, Warrington, he got one and so did Bletchley… and I think that's about it really. We couldn't really plant that one on wandless magic though, what with you being the only one around here who can actually do wandless magic, we figured it wouldn't look convincing if anyone else were found with it."

"So what're we going to do with that one then?" asked Harry.

"Don't worry," replied Roger. "We've already taken care of it."

"How?" wondered Harry.

"Well, we couldn't really get anywhere near the Restricted Section, but it is a pretty big library," said Roger. "I mean, if Pince gets distracted with something on one side of the library, then there's no reason why a person can't tear a few pages slightly and place a book in her 'to repair' pile while she's distracted."

"So… she'll find it in that pile, throw a fit like she always does whenever one of her books gets damaged, then she'll think she'd picked it off the shelf earlier and that it wasn't missing after all," concluded Harry.

"Precisely," grinned Spencer. "Chalk another one up for Roger Appleby and his arse-saving ideas."

"Hear, hear," agreed Blaise.

"So, as long as we can prove these are ours, then there's nothing for us to worry about," said Harry, nodding at the books on the table.

"Exactly," confirmed Spencer. "All we have to do now is sit back, wait for the 'search' to reach the Slytherin common room and watch the fun from a safe distance."

"Search?" queried Harry as he began to put the books back in their bag. "As in…"

"As in 'searching everyone's dorms for the missing books'," said Spencer. "They're taking this very seriously. According the Bloody Baron, they've just started 'searching' the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw common rooms. Hufflepuff and Slytherin'll probably be 'searched' any second now…"

As if someone had been waiting for one of them to say this, the entrance to the common room opened. Harry quickly shrank everything and put everything in his pocket. Focusing his attention back to the entrance to the common room, he watched as Snape, accompanied by Professor Sinistra and all of the Slytherin Prefects entered. They then watched as Snape led Jonas Rockford and Terrence Higgs up the boy's staircase while Professor Sinistra led Emmeline Strange and Josephine Francis up the girl's staircase. As they did so, Harry couldn't help but smirk as he noticed Snape pause and scowl at the mark on the wall. Luckily, Dalton Point didn't spot Harry's smirk as he approached the four first years sitting around the fireplace.

"I suppose I should ask you if you have them," he sighed. "Several books have gone missing from the Restricted Section of the library. The dorms are being searched now, so if any of you know what I'm talking about, then now's the time to speak."

"Sorry, Point," said Harry politely. "Haven't heard anything about any missing books."

"Besides, we have better things to do than steal books," added Spencer.

"Such as?" Point responded.

"Such as wishing you'd just leave us alone," retorted Roger, immediately springing to Spencer's defence.

The Prefect rolled his eyes slightly at Roger's outburst. "I would have thought you would have learned by now to respect your…"

"Don't… even think about saying what you're about to say, Point!" interrupted Harry forcefully.

Dalton eyed Harry angrily. "I was about to say 'elders', Potter…"

"No you weren't," interrupted Harry.

Dalton sighed slightly. "Okay, fine, I was about to say 'betters', but I won't now," he said. "By the way, Potter…"

"Quidditch practise on Wednesday, yeah I know," said Harry.

"Five o'clock." added Point. "And don't…"

"… be late, I know," said Harry simultaneously. At this point, the Slytherin Prefect gave Harry an irritated sigh and decided to join the 'search' of the dorms. "You should've planted some of those books on him," Harry muttered as he watched Point disappear up the boy's staircase. Just then however, Harry realised something. "Oh, Merlin, the Potions Textbook!" he exclaimed. "If anyone finds it…"

"You mean this Potions Textbook?" interrupted Roger, nodding at the book as it sat on the armrest of the chair he was sitting on. "I thought I'd have a read while you were gone."

"Oh," was all Harry said in response as they all sat and waited for the detentions to be handed out to their 'fellow' Slytherins. As they did so, the common room started to fill with a large number of Slytherins, most of them complaining loudly when they realised they couldn't go up to their dorms. Before long, The Guys had been joined by a number of their fellow first years.

"This is so unfair!" complained Tracey Davis. "Why're they searching our rooms? Do they honestly think any of us would steal books from the library? That's the kind of stupid thing a Gryffindor would do."

"They are searching the other houses too though, right?" asked Christine.

"They are," confirmed Blaise.

"But surely they don't expect to find anything in here do they?" exclaimed Daphne. "I mean, none of us are stupid enough to steal books from the Restricted Section and then just leave them lying around their dorms. Even Spencer wouldn't be stupid enough to do that."

"Thanks, Daph," replied Spencer sarcastically. "So good to hear you have such faith in my intelligence."

"Well, it's good to hear you're capable of using words of at least four syllables, Spencer," retorted Daphne.

"Ladies!" interrupted Roger. "Please, no fighting in the common room – at least not with all the Prefects hanging around."

"Don't forget Snape's still prowling around too," noted Edmund Marcus. "Still, at least I won't have anything to worry about him once I'm gone."

"What're you talking about?" asked Blaise.

"You haven't heard?" said Theodore Nott. "Ed's moving to France."

"France?" exclaimed Spencer.

"Yeah," said Edmund. "My dad's got a job in the French Ministry of Magic, so we're moving to some place in Normandy within the next fortnight or so. After that, I'll be starting at Beauxbatons after New Year."

"Really?" said Roger. "Well, good luck."

"Comment t'appelle tu?" asked Blaise suddenly.

"Je m'appelle Edmund," replied Edmund. "I do know at least some French, Blaise. _Theodore_ was most helpful in that regard, I might add."

"You're very welcome, _Edmund,_" replied Theodore sarcastically. "Now do me a favour and stop calling me 'Theodore', it makes me sound like some upper-class dimwit like Malfoy…" he stopped suddenly.

"What's wrong?" asked Tracey.

"Malfoy," muttered Theodore. "I've just realised that once Ed's gone, I'll be all alone with Malfoy and those two drones of his."

"You mean Crabbe & Goyle?" asked Christine. "Poor you."

"Poor you is right," interjected Harry. "Those two're so stupid, they'd probably buy water-skis, then spend years looking for a lake with a slope to try them out on."

As intended, there was much laughter at this line.

"Hold on," said Spencer, once the laughing died down. "If Edmund's leaving, that means Garrett'll be able to move down to Dorm A, what with there being another spare bed and all."

"What?" exclaimed Theodore. "Cuthbert Garrett? In the same dorm as Malfoy? Oh no, please tell me you're joking."

"Sorry, Theo, but Garrett's tried to change dorms… how many times has it been now? Three? Four?" said Blaise.

"Five," answered Harry. "According to Snape, Garrett's just tried to swap dorms for 'the fifth time in just three months'."

"So is that why Snape wanted you?" asked Blaise.

"Yeah," replied Harry. "And I don't think he's too pleased."

"Oh, that cloak-wearing twonk's never pleased," said Edmund.

"Exactly. The day old Hook Nose is in a good mood'll be the day Cornelius Fudge becomes Headmaster," quipped Spencer.

"Hook Nose?" laughed Daphne. "Exactly how many names do you actually have for him?"

"A few," replied Spencer. "Let's see, there's The Greasy Git…"

"El Greaseball," added Harry.

"Tall, Pale & Slimy," said Blaise.

"Nose Almighty," continued Roger.

"The Greasy One," said Spencer.

"The Slimeball," said Blaise.

"And don't forget about his various glares," Roger pointed out. "Snape Glare Number One: 'Must you be so stupid?'."

"Snape Glare Number Two: 'Get out of my sight before I do something that gets me sacked'," continued Harry.

"Snape Glare Number Four: 'I'm this close to force-feeding you something unpleasant'," added Blaise.

"Snape Glare Number Five: 'Good thing for you Unforgiveables are illegal'," finished Spencer.

"Um…" said Roger. "Hold on, there another two we haven't mentioned."

"Number three's 'Don't even think about opening your mouth or saying anything', I think," said Blaise.

"Yeah, but what's that other one we came up with last Thursday?" asked Roger.

"You mean, number six?" asked Spencer. "Wasn't it something like 'be glad you're not in Gryffindor' or something along those lines?"

"'If only you were in Gryffindor…'," corrected Harry. "I think that was one of Blaze's."

"Well, I hope there's a Beauxbatons equivalent of you guys, otherwise it's going be very boring," said Edmund. "Merlin, you guys are nutters!"

"And luckily for everyone else, they're completely exclusive to Hogwarts," quipped Tracey.

"But we still have to put up with them though," added Daphne teasingly.

"And I bet you wouldn't have it any other way, right?" retorted Spencer.

"Of course they wouldn't!" agreed Blaise. "I mean, who else around here has the overall charisma and presence of The Guys? Without us, the most well-known posse around here would either be the Gryffindor Trio, the Prankster Twins or The PFBs."

"So what does 'PFBs' stand for anyway?" Christine asked suddenly. "You've never really told any of us."

"The first two words are 'Pureblood Fanatic'," explained Harry. "The last word has a number of possibilities, but the initials originally came from Spence's 'Pureblood Fanatic Bastards' line. That being said, the words 'bozos', 'bitches', 'blowhards' or 'boneheads' would probably work too."

"Is that the only one you've come up with?" asked Theodore.

"Nope," replied Blaise. "There's the 'so-called Slytherin Elite' after their little rant about a month ago, and there is the option of 'The Slytherin Six' if you want to be really, and I mean REALLY, polite… probably not much point in coming up with that one now I think about it. Oh well…"

"At least we have those individual nicknames Hal came up with," said Roger. "Drakey-boy, Cuthbert Cringeworthy, Crud & Boil, Poncy Parkinson, Milicent Bullshit…"

"Oh Merlin, remind me to never get on your bad side, Hal." laughed Spencer.

"I wouldn't worry about that," said Tracey. "I don't think even Harry could do anything with 'Spencer'."

"No," admitted Harry. "But I could come up with something from 'Spence'. 'Dense', perhaps?"

"Oh Merlin…" laughed Daphne. "That's probably the most appropriate nickname anyone's ever come up with."

"Speaking of which, has anyone noticed that if you add a 't' to the end of 'Daph', you get 'Daft'," retorted Spencer gleefully. "Not that I'm suggesting anything by that."

"You've got to admit, he's got you there," said Theodore.

"Oh shut up," pouted Daphne as the others laughed.

Eventually, the search of the dorms ended and by the evening, Slytherin was no longer in the lead in contention for the House Cup. Needless to say, the fact that Malfoy got detention more than made up for it as far as The Guys were concerned. Harry was also pleased to learn that the scheduled Quidditch practice had been cancelled due to Flint, Montague and Bletchley all receiving detentions, thereby saving Harry from having to sit through yet another one of Marcus Flint's trademark 'win at all costs' pep talks. In fact, as Harry sat in his bed reading his brand new book on Occlumency later that night, he reckoned that, overall, it had been a pretty good day.

-

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

The next two chapters concern the Christmas Holidays. Oh, and don't worry, I haven't forgotten about The Lone Traveller's Parchment, or the Invisibility Cloak & Marauder's Map for that matter.

**Fanficlover38: **Annie is two years younger than Harry & Michael, i.e. she'll be starting first year just as the twins go into their third.

**Jarno: **As far as I know, Mrs Black (Sirius's mother) and her husband (the head of the Black household) weren't Death Eaters, so some would consider the Blacks to not be a Death Eater family, even if some of the girls married Death Eaters. Besides, who's to say that Blaise knows about Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange being Blacks anyway?

Time for a bit of interaction from the readers. Simply answer the following question in your reviews…

Where in Wales should Godric's Hollow be located? (NOTE: it has to be in the countryside as there's a forest nearby and probably some hills – nowhere near any cities like Cardiff or Swansea.) Choose from the following…

A) Powys

B) Monmouthshire

C) Anglesey

D) Pembrokeshire

E) Somewhere else (Please specify)

At the moment, I'm leaning towards Pembrokeshire, but any other options and opinions are welcome.

Until then, enjoy…


	10. Immortal Memories

**SUMMARY**

Harry James Potter is the only person to have ever survived the Avada Kedavra curse. Unfortunately, his twin brother, Michael Stephen Potter, mistakenly proclaimed as the Boy-Who-Lived'. As he grows up, Harry becomes withdrawn and distant from his family. However, when Harry and Michael receive their Hogwarts letters, Harry sees it as a chance to finally prove to himself and to everyone else who the true 'Boy-Who-Lived' is…

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

**This website** – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see. Also thanks to those who have encouraged this spin-off the 'The Lone Traveller'

**J.K. Rowling – **They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER TEN – Immortal Memories.**

"_You are a threat, and threats must be eliminated." sneered an all too familiar voice. "Avada Kedavra."_

_However, as the usual green flash filled Harry's eyes, he suddenly found himself standing in the middle of a ruined street. Looking around in confusion, he could see that something terrible had happened, and it had happened a long time ago by the looks of things. There was no one to be seen among the rubble that littered the street and there were no discernible landmarks, but for some reason, it all seemed eerily familiar to Harry. However, it took a few minutes for him to figure it out. Picking himself up after tripping over a piece of wood, Harry looked at the piece of wood and saw that there was writing on it._

Ol v nd rs – Ma e s f ine wa ds si c 382 C 

_As a cold laugh in the background started to get louder, Harry knew that he was standing in the middle of the ruins of Diagon Alley…_

XxXxXxXxXxX

Harry's eyes blinked open and the boy sat up slightly, his breathing ragged. He sighed and allowed himself to fall back again. He lay there for a while, wondering if he should try and go back to sleep. Eventually, he sat up again, put on his glasses and grabbed his watch from the bedside table. _Five past seven, _thought Harry. _Why do I always have to wake up so early? I mean, I hardly ever get to sleep before midnight and yet I always wake up before anyone else. Oh well, I may as well get up seeing as I'm awake now. Bloody nightmares – that's the fifth one this week!_

A few minutes later, Harry was dressed and sitting downstairs in the common room, next to an unlit fire. Harry knew he wouldn't be alone for long though – today was the last day of term. By late afternoon, Harry would be back home in Godric's Hollow, no doubt receiving an interrogation on life at Hogwarts from his little sister, though Harry was not-so-secretly hoping that Michael would take the brunt of Annie's potentially hyperactive questions, which would no doubt be delivered with all the speed and subtlety of a machine-gun. However, Harry knew he wouldn't be able to avoid having to answer questions such as 'what's it like being a Slytherin?', though the word 'Slytherin' would no doubt be replaced with the word 'Snake' by at least one of The Marauders, most likely Sirius, closely followed by his own father. Needless to say, Harry was not looking forward to that particular topic being brought up in conversation. Still, at least with the Mirrors, he and the rest of The Guys could still keep in touch, which was reassuring at the very least.

A noise from the staircase roused Harry from his thoughts. Looking up, he saw that the only two occupants of Dorm A whose company Harry could stand had obviously just got up.

"Hey, Harry," greeted Edmund. "Still a light sleeper, I see. Or do you think the Hogwarts Express is going to come sooner if you get up earlier?"

"Still a wise-ass I see, even on your last day," retorted Harry. "Y'know, I still can't help but wonder what the French'll think of you when you make your big debut at Beauxbatons with all those little semi-humorous quips of yours."

"Well, I doubt he'll get much of a reaction if he can't say them in French," pointed out Theodore. "He hasn't even figured out what 'well I, for one, am impressed' is in French."

"Je suis dans le salle de bains," said Edmund in response.

"You just made that up," said Harry, not fooled by Edmund's random piece of French.

"You're right," confirmed Theodore. "What was that anyway? I heard the word 'bathroom' in there but what that has to do with anything I will never know."

"It means something like 'I am in the Bathroom'," admitted Edmund. "I still have time to practice before we move though."

"Well, good luck," said Harry. "I mean, moving from somewhere near Carlisle to someplace in Normandy can't be easy."

"Yeah, Carlisle to Caen," said Edmund. "Still, it'll definitely be memorable."

"Hopefully for the right reasons," quipped Theodore.

"Hopefully," mumbled Edmund.

"You okay, Ed?" Theodore asked suddenly, slightly concerned about his outgoing friend's sudden change in demeanour.

"Yeah, I'm fine," sighed Edmund. "It's just that I haven't really had much time to think about it this last fortnight. I guess it's only just occurred to me that I might never see home again."

"I'd try not to worry too much about it," said Theodore. "You'll only feel worse about it if you dwell on it."

"Theo's right, Ed," agreed Harry. "Getting yourself worked up about something never really does you any good, trust me. All you can really do is hope that everything works out and just get on with it."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," conceded Edmund. "Anyway, I suppose I should just go and finish packing. Malfoy and his cronies could do with a rude awakening anyway."

"Sounds good," replied Theodore, at which point they both turned around and went back the way they came, leaving Harry alone in the common room again, now hoping that he would never have to go through having to move house like Edmund was. Fortunately, Harry wasn't allowed time to think too much about either the idea of moving house or the contents of his dream earlier as The Guys came down the stairs soon after.

"Well, well, well," grinned Spencer. "Still an early riser, even on the last day. I don't suppose there's a reason for you being up so early, is there?"

"Not really," shrugged Harry. "What about you? Why're you down here? It's only twenty five past seven."

"We thought we'd play a goodbye prank on Garrett," said Blaise. "A simple trick combining the merits of Muggle stink bombs and a simple time-delay spell."

"Once Garrett's dressed, he'll have about five minutes before the delay expires," elaborated Roger. "After that, he'll stink worse than a curry-eater convention's communal latrine."

"Oh god, don't tell me you've joined in with their occasional pranking too," groaned Harry.

"Joined in?" said Roger. "I was the one that came up with this little scheme."

"Oh come on, Hal, since when did you go all authoritarian?" asked Blaise. "Besides, you know me and Spence have only played something like three pranks since we got here, not including this one on Garrett. That's less than you, I might add."

"Yeah," agreed Spencer. "WE haven't blasted Muggle rock music through the Great Hall, or given the PFBs new hairstyles in front of the whole school. Nor have we ever swapped the labels of Potions ingredients or spiked anyone's drink with Babbling Beverage… no, wait, we did that to Garrett last week. But we've only done that once. You did it to Malfoy… twice – poor git still checks his Pumpkin Juice every time he drinks it!"

"And what about that stunt you pulled on everyone while they were in detention?" added Blaise. "You know, the one with the sticking spell on the chairs and the 'touch them and your hair turns some random colour' desks?"

"Malfoy with purple and green polka dot hair…" laughed Roger. "That'll go with me to the grave, that will."

"It's a pity they had to cure it so soon," lamented Spencer. "Three days just wasn't long enough."

"Still, at least I have pictures," said Roger. "Now I just have to get them developed when I get home."

"Yeah, to Gruesome, right?" grinned Spencer.

"It's Grooseham," corrected Roger irritably. "I've noticed you haven't told us exactly where you live though. Same goes for you, Blaze. Don't tell me you live somewhere with an equally stupid name, do you?"

"Sorry Rodge, but no," said Blaise. "We're both right in the middle of Cambridgeshire, about three miles down the road from one another. Not exactly the most exciting place to live, but it's still a nice place."

"Not as good as Godric's Hollow though," interjected Harry. "A good few hills around us, less than ten miles from the coast and we even have a forest nearby – not too many of those in Pembrokeshire, I can tell you that. Add in the universally renowned friendliness of the Welsh and you really can't beat it."

"The Welsh?" said Spencer in a confused voice. "Oh yeah, I forgot, Godric's Hollow's in Wales, what with Godric Gryffindor being from 'the moors' and all."

"Gryffindor was Welsh?" exclaimed Blaise. "Ah, I suppose that explains why most of the Gryffindors are so…"

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence, Blaise," warned Harry half-jokingly. "Cymru an byth!"

"What?" responded Roger. "What on earth was that? What the hell is a 'coom-ree'?"

"It's Welsh, Rodge," answered Harry. "It's about the only bit of Welsh I know."

"Not much of a Welshman then, are you, if that's the only Welsh you know," noted Spencer.

"Well, I'm not much of a Slytherin either, so I guess I'm consistent at least," replied Harry.

"Oh, give it a rest with the self-depreciating humour already," said Blaise. "You're a perfectly good Slytherin, just not a good stereotypical one."

"Thanks Blaise… I think," was Harry's response.

"So what did that mean anyway?" Roger asked Harry. "The Welsh, I mean."

"It means 'Wales forever'," answered Harry. "It's the Welsh national motto."

"And that's the only Welsh you know?" said Spencer. "Some Welshman you are – you don't speak Welsh and you don't even sound Welsh."

"Another stereotype you don't conform to," added Blaise.

"Very funny," retorted Harry. "Come on, not all Welsh folk have that over the top accent people seem to think we have. Besides, having a mother from Surrey or Sussex or someplace beginning with 'su', might have something to do with me 'not sounding Welsh' too."

"Or maybe people just don't pay enough attention to actually notice," suggested Roger.

The conversation continued for another minute or so before coming to an abrupt stop as The Guys noticed The PFBs emerging from the stairway and left the common room, pausing to sneer slightly at the 'Mudblood-lovers' as they did so. However, as the portrait hole closed, The Guys heard a loud pop and a few surprised exclamations. There was much laughter at this from The Guys, which only confused the rest of the first years, as well as the other Slytherins, as they too came down for their dorms. The confusion didn't last too long though because of the rather unpleasant aroma that lingered just outside the common room entrance. Fortunately, the smell wasn't enough to put anyone off having breakfast…

XxXxXxXxXxX

"I wonder where Garrett's got to," wondered Blaise as he swallowed a mouthful of bacon.

"Dunno," replied Spencer. "Maybe he went to get a job in pest control. You know, have him sit in the middle of the garden for five minutes and you'd never have to de-gnome it ever again!"

"De-gnome?" said Roger curiously.

"Garden gnomes are living creatures in the wizarding world," explained Harry. "Annoying little buggers, they are too."

"You mean gnomes are real?" exclaimed Roger. "You're having me on!"

"We're not," said Spencer. "They most definitely exist, and getting rid of them isn't the best of pastimes either."

"What do you mean? How do you get rid of them?" Roger asked.

"Well, first you have to catch them," began Spencer. "Then you take them by the ankles and spin them 'round and 'round loads of times, then you let them go and send the pests flying."

"But… surely you're not allowed to do that!" stammered Roger. "That's just cruel!"

"It doesn't hurt them, Rodge," reassured Harry. "It just makes them too dizzy to find their way back to your garden for a while. Besides, they're far from harmless. See this finger?" Harry held up his right index finger. "That tiny little scar just above the knuckle was from one of those little buggers biting me, and I can tell you, when a gnome bites you, it hurts."

"I know what you mean," sighed Spencer. "I've got a couple of scars myself. Merlin, I hate those things. Even when Nathan pitches in and helps, they're still a real pain to take care of."

"I'm guessing you get most of the de-gnoming duty at home then," guessed Harry.

"Yeah, most of the time. You?" replied Spencer.

"Same," said Harry. "Michael occasionally gets roped into doing it, but it seems that fate has made me the official Potter family de-gnomer."

"Which'll probably continue for both of us," pointed out Spencer. "After all, we are in the same boat with our families – both our families have a tradition of being in a certain house and we've broken them by becoming 'nasty' Slytherins."

Reaching out for one last slice of toast, Harry sighed in agreement as the image of the word 'snake' being used in a conversation at home re-entered his mind. _Why do I have a feeling it's going to be a long Christmas? _Harry wondered with some dread.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"I wonder what it is that pulls these things," said Roger as the carriage seemingly pulled itself towards Hogsmeade station. "Any of you guys know?"

"Probably just some really powerful spell," guessed Blaise.

"Yeah. In fact, I heard, whatsisname, Finnegan…" began Spencer.

"Seamus Finnegan?" suggested Roger.

"Yeah, that's him. Our year, sandy hair, Gryffindor," continued Spencer. "Anyway, I overheard him say something about these things being charmed by Dumbledore himself. Then again, I heard a few Ravenclaws say something about it being Flitwick that does it."

"Well of course they'd say that," said Blaise. "He is their Head of House after all."

"So what d'you think Hal?" asked Roger. "Anything in that encyclopaedia you call a mind about horseless carts?"

"Only that Muggles called the first cars 'horseless carts'," replied Harry, though in all honesty, he really didn't want to join in the conversation – he had overheard someone say something about Thestrals being used at Hogwarts before starting school. At the time, he'd wondered what anyone would want to use an invisible-to-most-people creature for, but after seeing the first carriages begin to move, he realised that they were being pulled.

_Thestral drawn carriages – most people would have a fit if they found out right now, _thought Harry. Thestrals, being invisible to all except those who have witnessed and understood death, were considered dark by many. Harry understood that this perception was probably misplaced, but he still felt uncomfortable sitting so close to one as they approached the station.

"I wonder why they made it red," said Roger. "The train, I mean. Has it always been that colour?"

"Well, my dad said it was red, so it's probably been this colour since he was at school at least," answered Spencer. "Why?"

"No reason," replied Roger. "Just thought it was funny that they chose red with gold writing."

"You mean why did they choose Gryffindor colours?" asked Blaise in response.

"Maybe it's Dumbledore's doing," said Harry. "Apparently, he was a Gryffindor too. That's why most people want to end up in that house."

"So you reckon if the next Headmaster were a Ravenclaw, we'd have a blue and bronze train," theorised Roger. "And if, somehow, a Slytherin was allowed to become Headmaster, then we'd have a dark green and silver train."

"Not much chance of that," pointed out Blaise. "The only members of staff that were in Slytherin are Snape and Sinistra."

"Snape as Headmaster…" shuddered Roger. "God help the Gryffindors if that ever happens."

"Too true," agreed Spencer. "Well, just as long as Dumbledore's replacement isn't a Hufflepuff, otherwise we'd end up with the train looking like a bee or something – yellow and black… ugh!"

"Still better than Snape being Headmaster though," quipped Harry as their carriage came to a halt.

It only took The Guys a few minutes for them to find a suitable compartment near the back of the train. Heaving their luggage onto the luggage racks, they sat down and watched the chaos on the platform through the window.

"So, when're you gonna look at that Parchment thing the other Harry gave you?" asked Roger.

Harry sighed as the subject of the Lone Traveller's parchment came up once again. "Later," was his reply.

"You always say that," said Roger. "Look, you have to look at it sooner or later."

"That way, we'll at least know what it does," added Spencer. "You can't put it off forever, you know."

"Yeah, but…" protested Harry. "What if it's part of his mind? A copy of his memories and knowledge or something?"

"The knowledge of the Lone Traveller in a piece of parchment?" said Blaise. "Merlin, if that's what it is, then we'll be unstoppable!"

"Guys!" interrupted Harry. "You heard his story. Orphaned at age one, slept in a cupboard under the stairs for most of his childhood, saw everyone and everything destroyed by Voldemort, lost everything… do I really want a more in-depth look at all that?"

"Look, Hal," said Blaise, ignoring Spencer's shudder at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "He obviously gave it to you for a reason. He wouldn't have given it to you if he didn't want you to use it. Besides, he is you, remember?"

"He's not me, Blaise!" retorted Harry. "He's just some other me. He was an orphan and I'm not. He was an only child and I'm not. He was a Gryffindor and I'm not. He lost everyone he knew and cared about, and let me tell you now, I am not going to end up the same way!"

"But isn't that why he helped us in the first place?" said Roger. "He got us all those books from the library, he told all of us loads of important stuff and he gave you this mysterious parchment…"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Harry!" Spencer suddenly shouted. "Just look at the bloody thing already!"

There was a slightly awkward silence between the four boys.

"Tonight," Harry muttered. "I'll do it tonight, the first chance I get."

Eventually, the train began to move, just as the compartment door opened.

"Hey, uh, Harry, you got a minute?" asked Michael.

For a few seconds, everyone present thought Harry would refuse. To their surprise however, Harry gave a positive answer and got up. After being led to an empty compartment about two doors down, Harry sat down opposite his twin brother and the two began to talk.

"So what's this all about?" asked Harry after a few seconds.

"Look, I, uh…" sighed Michael. "I need to know what I said to you last time we spoke."

"Uh, well, last time we spoke, you said 'hi' when we passed in a corridor on Wednesday," said Harry, though he knew what his brother was really talking about.

"That's not what I meant Harry," said Michael. "Look, I know we argued about something at Halloween and obviously it was bad enough to make Mum yell at me the way she did in front of everyone… you did hear, right?"

"That Gryffindor's Golden Boy got yelled at in the middle of the common room?" replied Harry. "Yeah, I heard a few rumours about it."

"I'm surprised that's all you heard," said Michael, ignoring the sarcastic nickname. "Merlin, if you thought those Howlers from Dad were bad, then we'd both better pray Mum never gets out the Howler Parchment. I swear, the walls were literally shaking!"

"I know," responded Harry. "I've been on the wrong end of Mum's anger more than you have, remember?"

"Oh yeah," laughed Michael. "Like that time she saw you right at the top of that Oak tree near the Llewellyns."

"The one and only time I've ever accepted one of your dares," Harry pointed out.

"Ah," Michael stopped laughing. "Well, anyway, what I'm saying is, what was it I said to you that was so terrible? It's been driving me nuts for over a month now. I remember us arguing, but I don't remember what it was all about. I know I said something about you being there to gloat, then one of us called the other a glory-seeker or something, then you said something else… 'Something I didn't do'. Am I right?"

Harry looked at his brother curiously, trying to work out what his brother's intentions were. Was this genuine or was he trying to get him in trouble later. After all, Harry hadn't mentioned his final Boy-Who-Lived related outburst, mainly because he knew it would spell nothing but trouble for him. Talking about Voldemort or anything dark was pretty much forbidden in the Potter household, especially for Harry for some reason. Annie not being allowed to talk about Death Eaters, Harry could understand due to his mother's protectiveness for her only daughter, but why wasn't he allowed to even mention the subject? Even if it was Michael who everyone else thought to be the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry had still been there. He still bore a scar created by dark magic, even if it was only thought of as being a side-effect of his proximity to Michael and Voldemort that night, so why was anything that could possibly considered dark a taboo subject where Harry was concerned? Why was it he had to hide his Parselmouth ability from his family out of feelings of self-preservation? What was it about Harry that meant he wasn't allowed to…

"Harry?" interrupted Michael, seeing the far-away look on his brother's face. "You okay?"

"Huh?" said Harry, snapping out of it. "Oh, sorry. Anyway, what were you saying?"

"The argument we had after Halloween," re-iterated Michael. "What happened?"

"Oh, that," said Harry. "Well, yeah, you're right, you did call me a show-off, just like most of your fellow Gryffindors seem to enjoy doing. When I mentioned the whole 'Harry is a show-off' thing to Mum, she just lost it and left the Hospital Wing."

"Oh," muttered Michael. "So I did deserve it after all. Looks like Hermione was right, as always."

"Where are they anyhow?" asked Harry, trying to divert Michael away from the subject of their Hospital Wing argument. "They not going home for Christmas or something?"

"Ron isn't," replied Michael. "Hermione and Neville are just down the corridor with Seamus, Dean, Parvati and Lavender."

"Oh god, those two…" mumbled Harry at the mention of the last two names. "Don't tell me you hang out with the Gryffindor Gossips."

"You mean Parvati and Lavender?" said Michael. "Yeah, sometimes. They're not that bad really, just as long as they're in a good mood, though I can see why you don't like them. In fact, Parvati almost loathes you now. Something about corrupting her sister or something like that."

"You mean Padma?" replied Harry. "Well, we have spoken a few times, mostly saying 'hi' in the corridor though, nothing for Parvati to 'worry' about."

"I think just talking to her is bad enough as far as Parvati's concerned," sighed Michael. "Merlin knows why they hate you so much. They haven't even met you, have they?"

"Nope," replied Harry. "Never. Then again, the fact I'm in Slytherin's probably reason enough for most folk."

"It's probably jealousy as well," said Michael. "Don't forget you're the highest point-scorer in Slytherin at the moment. After all, between winning the Quidditch match despite being jinxed and the fact that Flitwick in particular has nothing but good things to say about you, you haven't exactly made yourself popular with the other houses."

"They think I'm a Teacher's Pet?" concluded Harry.

"It certainly looks like it to some," nodded Michael. "I'm surprised though. You've never been one to let people know how good you are at stuff. Take Quidditch for example. At home you never really showed much interest in Quidditch, but less than a month into Hogwarts, you make history by becoming one of the youngest players ever. That being said, can you blame me for thinking that you might be showing off at times? I mean, you're the kind of person that always holds back. Remember when we were eight and you drew that picture of the hills around Godric's Hollow? The one I had to steal off you to show to Mum and Dad, at which point you tried to claim Annie had drawn it, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," muttered Harry. "What's your point?"

"The point is, you're not a show off," said Michael. "So why do I hear all this stuff about you 'showing off' with all these advanced spells and wandless magic? Since when can you do wandless magic anyway? And why is it that everyone seems to know about it? Why aren't you holding back like you've always done?"

"I am holding back!" exclaimed Harry, though he instantly realised that he probably shouldn't have said that. _Oh, bloody buggery bastardisation, _he thought angrily. _What the hell kind of Slytherin am I? I might as well forget learning Occlumency if I can't even keep my mouth shut…_

"You mean... you are holding back?" said Michael. "But… that would mean… bloody hell, just how powerful are you?"

"Dunno," answered Harry truthfully. "Most of the stuff people say I can do is probably just exaggeration though." he added.

"Like people suddenly getting drenched at the flick of your hand?" smirked Michael. "Harry, you may be good at lying, but you're still my brother, no matter how much you may wish I wasn't."

"Where're you going with this?" asked Harry.

"Look, I'm just saying you should stop being so bloody modest all the time," said Michael. "And stop keeping so many things to yourself. Talk to us every once in a while. I mean, what harm could it do?"

_Plenty, _thought Harry, though he didn't say this out loud. Instead he just nodded and said nothing.

"I asked about it not too long ago," said Michael suddenly. "About the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing, I mean."

"You spoke to Dumbledore?" replied Harry, wondering why Michael would do such a thing.

"Yeah," confirmed Michael. "I asked him why everyone was so sure everyone was so certain I was the Boy-Who-Lived."

"And what did he say?" asked Harry with genuine curiosity.

"Not much," sighed Michael. "All he'd say is that there was good reason, but he couldn't tell me until I was older."

"You're kidding – 'Sorry Michael, but I can't tell you why I concluded that you were the saviour of the wizarding world, at least, not until you're older'. What kind of crap is that?" exclaimed Harry.

"That's what I said," agreed Michael. "Though not quite as… bluntly as that."

_Sure you didn't, _thought Harry sarcastically. "So basically what you're saying is that Dumbledore's absolutely certain that you're the wizarding world's saviour, but he won't tell anyone why, am I right?"

"As far as I'm concerned, then yes, it does look that way," nodded Michael.

"I don't buy it," muttered Harry, shaking his head slightly. "He's hiding something – from both of us."

"I know," muttered Michael in agreement. "He mentioned you a few times too. Something about you being an obstacle or something like that. Why, hasn't he spoken to you or anything?"

"Just in the Hospital Wing," said Harry as the word 'obstacle' echoed through his mind. _'Obstacle'? As in 'someone who'll get in the way'? How dare he? That senile old…_

"He said something about talking to you at some point…" mumbled Michael. He stopped suddenly. "Oh Merlin, that's what it was!"

"What was?" wondered Harry.

"I've just remembered he said something about coming to visit us over the holidays started," explained Michael. "Probably just to talk to Mum and Dad about something though, but he might want to talk to you as well. Maybe you might be able to get some answers then."

"Maybe," mumbled Harry doubtfully.

There was a long and awkward silence between the two of them. Sensing that the conversation was dead, Michael suggested that they talk later once they were at home. "Besides, the food trolley'll probably be here any minute now," added Michael as he left.

"Had a feeling you'd say something like that," muttered Harry as he too got up.

"Ah, so you decided to come back, did you?" smirked Blaise as Harry re-entered the compartment. "We were beginning to wonder where you'd got to."

"How long was it?" asked Harry as he sat down again.

"About twenty minutes," replied Roger.

"Twenty minutes?" said Harry disbelievingly. "That's all? Felt like an hour at least."

"So what did he say?" asked Spencer.

"A few things," replied Harry. "It seems that 'Alec' was right about Michael having doubts about him being the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. Apparently, he asked Dumbledore about it not too long ago."

"Alec?" interjected Spencer. "Oh, right, the other you…"

"So what did Dumbledore tell him?" asked Blaise.

"Basically that there was a good reason, but he couldn't say anything until Michael was older," said Harry. "Oh, Michael also mentioned that Dumbledore'll probably be paying a visit over the holidays and that he'll probably want to talk to me."

"You mean Dumbledore's going to come to your house?" exclaimed Spencer.

"He's visited us before," shrugged Harry. "I've usually just stayed out of the way though. I'll probably try and do the same again, especially seeing as Dumbledore considers me an 'obstacle' now."

"He what?" spluttered Spencer, his opinion of Dumbledore falling slightly.

"Just something Michael mentioned," said Harry dismissively, though he too couldn't help but wish misfortune upon Dumbledore at that precise moment.

Luckily, the subject changed soon afterwards, though the topic of conversation always seemed to change a lot when The Guys were together. In fact, by the time the train arrived at King's Cross, The Guys had talked at great length about Quidditch, Snape, the holidays, the PFBs, their plans for when they got back to school and, strangely enough, the upcoming football World Cup, which, according to Roger, would be held in France next summer.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Well, good luck at home," muttered Spencer as his older brother called him over.

"You too," replied Harry as Spencer made his way over to his family.

"Oh Merlin, my parents don't look too happy to see me," groaned Blaise as he spotted his parents, both sporting stern looks on their faces. "Guess I'd better go now. Talk to you guys later, okay?"

"Don't worry, Blaze, we will," said Roger reassuringly. "Well, I guess I'd better go and find my parents now. I'll see you after the holidays, Harry."

"See you, Rodge," responded Harry. "Have a good Christmas."

"You too," Roger called back as he disappeared into the crowd.

"And then there was one…" sighed Harry.

Suddenly, Harry felt something hit him on the back of his left leg.

"Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry…" he heard a voice say behind him. "Harry? Oh Merlin…"

"Don't worry about it," said Harry as he turned around and faced a very embarrassed Padma Patil. "These things are almost impossible to control anyway. Even those old Shooting Stars at Hogwarts with the handles smothered with Gambol & Japes 'Slippery Slime' would be easier to control than these accursed Luggage Trolleys."

"Just as long as the Slippery Slime stays on the brooms and off the floor," replied Padma. "Anthony thought it would be funny to see what would happen if he put a whole load of the stuff at the bottom of the girl's staircase this morning," she elaborated. "You can probably guess who came down the stairs first, can't you?"

"Yeah, I think so," said Harry, grimacing at the thought. "At least you won't have to worry about that at home."

"I suppose you're right," admitted Padma. "Though my cousins are visiting, and I wouldn't put anything past them…"

"Harry!" a voice suddenly interrupted. "He's over there, Mum!"

"My sister," sighed Harry, seeing the questioning look on Padma's face. "I should probably go. Have a good Christmas, Padma."

"You too, Harry," said Padma.

Walking towards his family, he saw that Michael had already found, or had been found by, Annie and his parents. However, Harry started to regret not staying at Hogwarts when he heard Annie's singsong voice proclaiming "Harry's got a girlfriend!"

_Oh god… _thought Harry. _I'm probably going to have to put up with that for the next fortnight, especially if Dad and Michael join in, which they probably will… ah, crap! Sirius! He'll be the worst if they say anything in his presence!_

"What's this I hear?" grinned James. "Could it possibly true? Harry's having to beat the girls off with a stick already?"

"No, Dad," sighed Harry. "It isn't true."

"Yeah, right…" mumbled Annie.

"Annie," said Harry plainly. "Over the last few months, I have learned a great many things, and right now, I've just learned that your brain is much like the Golden-Toothed Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

"In what way?" asked Annie in a confused voice.

"It doesn't exist," was Harry's razor-sharp response.

"Harry!" scolded Lily. "In fact, all of you, behave. And stop teasing Harry, James, and stop grinning Michael, it's not funny."

"Oh, come on Lils. Harry doesn't mind, do you Harry?" said James, still grinning.

"Do you want the blunt answer or the sarcastic answer?" muttered Harry, however, no one heard Harry say this.

"Well, come on," said Lily. "Let's get you boys home. Have you got all your stuff?"

"Yes, Mum," replied Michael. Harry looked behind him to check he had everything before nodding.

"Alright everyone," said James, holding out what looked like a notepad. "We're going by Portkey," he added for Harry and Michael's benefit. "On the count of three…"

When his father said 'three', everyone placed a hand on the notepad. Harry felt the usual uncomfortable jerk in his stomach as the family of five disappeared from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters and re-appeared just outside their house in Godric's Hollow.

XxXxXxXxXxX

_Well, I suppose it could've been worse, _thought Harry as he entered the bedroom he shared with his brother and sat down in front of the desk next to the window.

Since arriving home, Harry had been able to keep himself in the background for the most part, though he'd still had questions directed his way, mostly about Quidditch from his father. Even at dinner, he had managed to keep the subject of discussion on Hogwarts in general, rather than anything that had happened to Harry, though the subject of Draco Malfoy's broken nose did come up. Fortunately, he had received a slight apology when he told his parents the spell Malfoy had been trying to cast, but was also told that breaking Malfoy's nose was still going too far, no matter what the circumstances.

Annie, of course, had been eager to hear all there was to hear about Hogwarts, especially when it came to life as a Gryffindor, which meant that Michael received most of the questions from the youngest of the Potters. Harry, the odd sarcastic quip aside, had simply kept quiet and ate his food. Eventually, he had managed to excuse himself after dinner to unpack, which he started to do after a few minutes alone in his room.

Opening the trunk, Harry realised that he might as well leave most of his stuff in the trunk, as he would be going back to Hogwarts in just over a fortnight. In fact, he realised that it would probably be best to just leave most of his stuff in his trunk. However, as he went to close it, he noticed something – a blank piece of parchment.

_Ah, crap, I promised the others I'd look at this thing first chance I got, _sighed Harry. Setting an alarm spell of his own creation on the door as he closed it, Harry sat down on his bunk with the parchment in his hand and looked at it. _Well, here goes nothing…_

"I seek the advice of The Lone Traveller."

Though the parchment glowed for a split-second, nothing seemed to happen. He tried again.

"I seek the…"

"Yes, I heard you, Hal," interrupted a familiar voice.

Harry looked up and saw, standing next to the door, what looked like some kind of projection of his leather-jacket wearing other self. "Alec!" gasped Harry.

"Of course," grinned the semi-translucent figure. "You weren't expecting someone else, were you?"

"Um…" said Harry hesitantly. "To be honest, I wasn't really expecting anybody. Writing that suddenly appears on the page, maybe, but not this!"

"Don't worry," reassured the projection. "I can do that too if you need me to, though I'd prefer if you only went for that option if you didn't want anyone to see me."

"Um… okay," replied Harry uncertainly. "So… you're a projection. Um… anything else I should know?"

"Well, as I said, I can make writing appear on that parchment," replied 'Alec'. "Oh, and I sort of act like a pensieve."

"A what?" said Harry.

"Pensieve," elaborated 'Alec'. "It's normally a little bowl you can put some excess memories in. It's usually used in trials when a witness testifies. Looks cool too, like a silvery swirling liquid."

"Right…" nodded Harry. "And what do you do with the 'silvery swirling liquid'?"

"If it's in a pensieve, you usually just dunk your head in the liquid and the next thing you know, you're actually in someone's memory," said 'Alec'. "It's quite an interesting experience, just as long as you know what's happening the first time 'round. I can tell you, the first time I encountered one of those things was pretty unnerving until the real Albus turned up and explained what was going on."

"Albus? Oh, right, Dumbledore…" said Harry "So you can do the same thing? You can show people your memories?"

"If I managed to get it right, then yes," confirmed 'Alec'. "You want me to show you?"

"No!" exclaimed Harry, his dream from the morning stills fresh in his mind. "Sorry… I just don't really want to see the world destroyed or something like that."

"I don't blame you," sighed 'Alec'. "The Second War wasn't a particularly enjoyable for anyone involved." The projection looked at Harry for a second. "Well, if you don't want to see the future, then how about the past?"

"What d'you mean?" asked Harry.

"Memories from my childhood," replied 'Alec'. "From before I went to Hogwarts. Before I knew I was a wizard."

"You mean when you were living with my Aunt Petunia?" queried Harry. "Didn't you say they made you sleep in a cupboard under the stairs?"

"They did," nodded Harry. "Just thought it might give you a glimpse of what could have been. Maybe it'll cheer you up knowing your life's been so much better than mine was."

_Oh great, a glimpse of his miserable sounding childhood, _thought Harry. _Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt, just as long as he doesn't show me anything too terrible. _"Alright," said Harry. "But nothing too disturbing."

"Alright, I'll try," was the reply before a bright flash filled Harry's eyes.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"_Boy!" yelled an angry voice. "Get in here now and earn your keep for once!"_

_Harry looked around at what looked like the foyer of a suburban home belonging to a fairly well off family. Everything looked neat and tidy, all the pictures on the wall were nice and straight, any and all jackets were hung up and even the flowers in the vase next to one of the doors were neat and trimmed. Chances were that at least one person in this house was obsessed with cleanliness, Harry thought._

_Suddenly, Harry noticed a door opening from just under the stairs. Slowly and wearily, a small boy with dark, scruffy hair and taped up glasses stepped out and headed for the source of the angry voice hesitantly. Though it took a few seconds, Harry quickly realised that the boy was his other self, especially when he re-opened the door through which the boy had just come and looked inside. As he suspected, inside was a small cupboard. Frowning slightly at what he saw, Harry leaned forward slightly. There was nothing of note except for a thin mattress, an even thinner blanket and an lot of dust. There were no books, no toys, no possessions that Harry could see, nothing – just a dusty cupboard._

_Perturbed slightly by his other self's sleeping place, Harry was tempted to just pull out of the memory right now. However, something compelled him to go into the kitchen where he found his other self busy washing some dishes under the watchful eye of a rather large, unpleasant looking man with perhaps the most ridiculously large moustache Harry had ever seen. As Harry stood in front of the man, waving a hand in front of the man's unseeing eyes, the man suddenly spoke._

"_Be careful with those dishes, boy!" he warned. "Break any of them and you'll be in that cupboard for a week!"_

"_Well, at least he can fit in that cupboard, fatso!" retorted Harry, though he realised that no one could hear him. However, someone replied to his insult._

"If I'd said that, I'd've never seen the light of day again," _said an echoing disembodied voice – Alec's._

"_Alec?" exclaimed Harry, startled slightly by the voice. "Where are you?"_

"In your room, standing right in front of you," _replied the disembodied voice. _

"_Oh," said Harry. "So, uh… I'm guessing this is my uncle, right?"_

"Indeed it is, kiddo," _confirmed the voice of Harry's other self. _"Vernon Dursley, husband of Petunia, father of Dudley and Director of Grunnings."

"_Grunnings?" queried Harry. _

"A drill-making company," _elaborated Alec. _"Though the way he talked about it, you'd think it was more important than the United Nations and the Red Cross combined."

_Harry looked at the large man, who was now reading a newspaper._

"_The Daily Mail?" said Harry. "Doesn't really give 'em a particularly good image if he's a typical reader…"_

_Harry turned and watched Alec's younger self as he struggled to wash the dishes without dropping any. After about ten seconds, Harry could see at least three things wrong with the scene before him. _

_First, there was the fact that the other him couldn't be more than six or seven years old. Indeed, the boy had to stand on his tiptoes just to see into the sink. There was absolutely no way this boy should be trying to wash any dishes, nor should he have been allowed to._

_Second, Harry couldn't help but wonder why Vernon was so concerned with broken dishes, yet didn't lift a finger to help his other self, who was literally having to reach over the sink just to get at the dishes in question. _

_The third thing that Harry noticed really acted as the icing on the cake – in the corner of the kitchen, there was what appeared to be a perfectly functional Dishwasher._

"_Unbelievable!" gasped Harry incredulously. "What kind of people…"_

_Suddenly, there was a crash as a plate slipped out of the other Harry's hand. Vernon Dursley's reaction was instantaneous._

"_What do you think you're doing, boy!" he yelled, the vein in his forehead starting to become more pronounced. "These plates are worth more than you are, you little freak! Get out of my sight before I hurt you!"_

"_I… I'm sorry Uncle Vernon…" the boy stammered fearfully. "I… I didn't mean to…"_

"_What's going on in here?" said a new voice. Harry turned and saw a rather bony-faced woman enter the kitchen. The woman stopped suddenly when she saw the broken plate on the floor. "What have you done?" she shrieked. _

_Harry marvelled slightly that his glasses didn't break at the high-pitched voice of the woman, no doubt his Aunt Petunia, as she proceeded to scold, as well as insult, his other self before grabbing the other Harry roughly and leading him to the cupboard under the stairs. Despite the boy's protests and apologies, the cupboard door was slammed shut and locked. _

_As he watched Petunia Dursley go back to the kitchen, muttering under her breath as she went, Harry simply stood there, scarcely able to believe what he'd just seen. Inside the dusty cupboard in front of him, there was the one person whose life probably couldn't get any worse. The other him was no older than seven years old, yet he was expected to wash dishes, and do god knew what else, and whose bedroom was a dust-filled cupboard. Harry had only been inside this memory for about five minutes, but already he wanted to leave, especially if this was what the Lone Traveller considered 'nothing too disturbing'. _

_Suddenly, Harry's thoughts were interrupted by the voice of the Lone Traveller._

"Hey, uh, Hal, I'm hearing a fairly loud whistling sound coming from the door. Is that normal?"

_Harry's eyes widened slightly. "Oh Merlin, the proximity alarm! Someone's coming!" he exclaimed. "Quick! Get me out of here!"_

"Alright," _replied Alec's voice. _"Hold on…"

XxXxXxXxXxX

Harry blinked slightly as he found himself back in his bedroom. Sure enough, there was a sharp, but not too loud whistling sound coming from the door. Harry quickly waved his hand in the direction of the door and the noise stopped. 'Alec' however, was nowhere to be seen. Before Harry could pause to wonder where the projection had gone, the door opened and in came Michael.

"Hey, bro'," said Michael. "Don't suppose you could take a turn regaling Annie with tales of Hogwarts and all its wonders, could you?"

"Still going, is she?" Harry asked, trying to sound as if he hadn't seen his alternate self being mistreated by his aunt and uncle.

"Yep," nodded Michael. "Still going, and with no signs of stopping either."

"And you expect me to go downstairs knowing that?" said Harry.

"Um… well, yeah, please," said Michael.

"Fine," sighed Harry. "I'll be down in a minute, okay?"

"Thanks, bro'," said Michael before leaving the bedroom.

Closing the door behind his brother slightly, Harry glanced around but couldn't see 'Alec's' projection anywhere.

"Where…?" Harry began to mutter.

"_Don't worry, kid, I'm still here_," interrupted a voice that seemed to echo through Harry's mind, startling him slightly. "_Oh, I forgot to mention, I can communicate with you mentally too. Just thought you should know._"

"Oh, um… thanks," said Harry uncertainly, still perturbed by the contents of 'Alec's' memory. "Um… I should probably go now. I'll, uh, talk to you later, okay?"

"_Fair enough,._" Harry heard 'Alec's' voice responded.

"Thanks for the advice," said Harry, deactivating the parchment. However, as Harry left his bedroom, he felt something shuddering in his pocket. Dipping his hand in said pocket, Harry pulled out the mirror and flipped it open.

"Hal?" said Spencer from the other end. "You there?"

"No, Spence, this is Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic," replied Harry sarcastically.

"Ah, Minister," responded Spencer in an equally sarcastic manner. "Yes, sorry, I must've got a wrong mirror. Never mind…"

"No, no, not at all," said Harry. "I could do with some intelligent every once in a while, but I suppose you'll have to do."

"Don't think you'd get many votes if you said that, Hal," was Spencer's reply. "So how're things going?"

"Not too bad," said Harry. "I managed to have a look at that parchment and it turns out I was right – it does hold a copy of the other me's mind, complete with projection of Alec himself and his memories to boot."

"Seriously?" exclaimed Spencer. "Merlin, that's great!"

"Not when you see about five minutes of his childhood," muttered Harry.

"That bad?" asked Spencer.

"Probably worse," said Harry. "He said he'd 'try' and show me something that wasn't too disturbing, so if what he showed me was a good day, then I don't think I really want to see the rest."

"Fair enough, Hal, just as long as we know what that thing does now," said Spencer. "Anyway, I thought I'd better see how you were doing, 'cause I'm already regretting coming home."

"Why? You're parents aren't giving you a hard time, are they?" said Harry.

"Not too bad," said Spencer, echoing Harry's words. "It's mostly Granddad. He and Nan are staying for Christmas – that's why I had to come home. Anyway, he's been going on about me not being a Hufflepuff and the fact that I'm a 'dirty' Slytherin. Nathan's not exactly been too brotherly either."

"Well, I suppose you could tell them that if they don't stop the pro-Hufflepuff and anti-Slytherin propaganda, then I shall see to it that Hufflepuff suffer the most humiliating defeat in the entire history of Hogwarts Quidditch," replied Harry.

The image of Spencer grinned slightly at this. "Maybe I will, if I'm feeling suicidal," he said jokingly. "Anyhow, I'd better go – my Hufflepuff relations beckon."

"As, no doubt, will my Gryffindor relations if I don't make my presence known soon," said Harry. "Talk to ya' later, Spence."

Harry watched Spencer's head nod before the image vanished. Closing the mirror and pocketing it again, Harry began walking down the stairs just as he heard someone coming up them.

_Oh god, _thought Harry as his little sister began to talk to him. _If she says the word 'girlfriend', she's going through an upstairs window… _

"Harry? What's wrong?" asked Annie, confused by the look on her brother's face.

"Nothing," muttered Harry. "Why, what's up?"

"Nothing," replied Annie. "We were just wondering where you'd got to. So, are you coming down or what?"

"Yeah, I'm coming down," sighed Harry. "On one condition," he added. "Don't start asking me stuff about what it's like at Hogwarts. We've all visited Hogwarts before and you'll see what it's like to go to school there yourself. You've only got a year and a half to wait now."

"But that's ages away!" whined Annie. "I want to know what it's like, learning magic, flying lessons, all that stuff Dad's told us that's there…"

"And you'll see it all for yourself, Annie," interrupted Harry. "Besides, it's pretty overrated anyway."

"You're just saying that," mumbled Annie.

"Well, actually, once you've been there a while, the novelty does kinda wear off," said Harry. "But can we please talk about something other than Hogwarts now?"

"Okay," said Annie as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "So, who was that girl you were speaking to earlier?"

"Although, I am starting to miss Hogwarts a bit right about now," muttered Harry in response to this as the two entered the living room. "Look, her name's Padma, we've known each other since the beginning of November and she's one of the few non-Slytherins that don't call me a show-off, okay? Is that enough to satisfy your curiosity?"

"What're you talking about, bro'?" asked Michael, noting Harry's sharp tone.

"Doesn't matter…" muttered Harry as he sat down.

"Fair enough," replied Michael. "Oh, by the way, Sirius's coming tomorrow…"

As he heard this, Harry leaned back in his chair and sighed quietly. "Great…" he mumbled to himself.

"Oh, come on, Sirius isn't that bad," protested Michael, defending his godfather.

"He will be now in the company of a Slytherin," mumbled Harry. "As soon as the subject of me being in Slytherin comes up, he and Dad'll probably start reminiscing about all their pranks on 'Snivellus', then ask me what it's like to have a 'greasy git' like Snape as a Head of House, mark my words."

"You're just being cynical Harry," said Michael. "I'll betcha you they don't. Maybe later in the evening or when all the Marauders are together, but not as soon as you seem to think."

"You really think so?" smirked Harry. "Alright then, you're on. First mention of Slytherin, Dad and Sirius'll do exactly as I've just said. Two Galleons to the winner."

"Two Galleons," repeated Michael as the two brothers shook hands on the bet.

_Idiot, _thought Harry. _This'll be the easiest two Galleons a person could ever make. Well, at least I'll be getting something from having to see Sirius or having to make sure Dominic and Gregory don't wreck the place… wait a second…_

"What about Remus? Is he coming too?" Harry asked.

"Not tomorrow," answered Michael. "Everyone else's coming on Monday."

_Oh great, two whole days until I get to see Remus, _thought Harry angrily when he heard this. _Oh well, at least it's not cold enough to not go out if I dress warmly…_

Glancing at Annie, he noticed that she wasn't too pleased at this news that she would have to wait two whole days to see her own godfather, whom she loved dearly, as well. Still, it was only two days, which really wasn't that long.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"He doesn't look like he's happy to be home, does he?" sighed Lily after the children had gone to bed.

"Who, Harry? Oh, he's probably just had a long week or something," said James. "He does look like he hasn't had much sleep. Maybe he'll be more cheerful in the morning."

"What about Sirius?" said Lily. "If he makes any jokes about Harry being a Slytherin…"

"Oh, Harry knows that nothing Sirius ever says should ever be taken too seriously," replied James.

"I hope you're right James," said Lily.

"Don't worry, Lils," re-assured James. "Everything's going to be just fine."

"But what about Dumbledore?" replied Lily. "You know he's coming here on Sunday and that he wants to talk to Harry while he's here…"

"I'm sure it's nothing serious," said James, though he wasn't entirely convinced himself.

"But what if it is?" asked Lily.

"Then we'll deal with it when we have to," said James.

"But what if it has something to do with the prophecy?" continued Lily. "I don't want to lose him…"

By this point, Harry had heard enough. Quietly, he sneaked away from the living room door and walked stealthily up the stairs up to his room. His brother was already asleep, which is why Harry unlocked and opened his trunk as quietly as he could before grabbing the Lone Traveller's Parchment and leaving the bedroom.

"I seek the advice of The Lone Traveller," Harry muttered as he sat on the bed of the main guest bedroom. Once again, the parchment glowed for a second and the projection of the Lone Traveller appeared in front of Harry.

"Hey there, kid," he grinned. "What can I do ya' for?"

"What do you know about a prophecy?" asked Harry.

"Prophecy?" said 'Alec'. "Ah, yes, the prophecy…"

"Mum mentioned it downstairs," elaborated Harry. "She said something like 'I don't want to lose him' when she mentioned it…"

"Hmm…" said 'Alec' thoughtfully. "Okay, before I say anything else, who does Neville Longbottom live with in the reality?"

"Neville?" exclaimed Harry, wondering what he had to do with anything. "He lives with his parents. Why? Didn't he in your… reality?"

"No," said the projection, shaking it's head. "His parents were crucio'd into insanity when some Death Eaters found out about the prophecy. You're saying that didn't happen here?"

"No, it didn't," replied Harry. "In fact, the Longbottoms are close family friends of ours."

"In which case, the prophecy in this reality's different then," concluded 'Alec'. "Different enough for the Lestranges and Crouch Junior not to conclude it meant Neville."

"What're you talking about?" Harry asked.

"The prophecy in my reality talked about the one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord being born as the seventh month ended, and because I was born on the 31st and Neville on the 30th of July, that meant the prophecy appeared to apply to one of us," explained 'Alec'. "And because Neville was a Pureblood, it was assumed by the Death Eaters that the prophecy meant him. That's why he ended up being raised by his grandmother."

"But it didn't apply to Neville, did it?" concluded Harry.

"No. Riddle only knew the first few lines of the prophecy," replied 'Alec'. "His spy never heard the bit about the child in question being 'marked' the Dark Lord's equal." At this point, the projection tapped the scar on it's forehead. "By killing my parents and trying to kill me, Riddle chose his equal, and eventual vanquisher."

"And you think the same applies to me," said Harry as he traced the outline of his own scar.

"Depends…" sighed 'Alec'. "It would make sense if Mum… sorry, your Mum is really worried about losing you, but then again, it's your brother who everyone thinks is the Boy-Who-Lived here, so there's probably something about 'the saviour's brother' in there too, maybe something about the saviour's brother making a great sacrifice or something."

"How'd you figure that?" asked Harry, curious as to why his other self was sounding a bit like an amateur seer.

"Hey, just because I failed Divination doesn't mean I don't still know a thing or two about it!" replied 'Alec' defensively. "Oh, and whatever you do, don't take Divination. The subject's a load of rubbish and Trelawney'll probably end up predicting your gruesome and horrific death every lesson. In fact, I think Ron said it best actually – 'if I'd died the number of times she said I would, I'd be a medical miracle'… or was it me who said that? I Suppose it doesn't matter either way…"

For a few seconds, Harry laughed at this, but stopped as something occurred to him. "That must be it," he muttered.

"What is?" queried 'Alec'.

"Michael mentioned he'd asked Dumbledore why everyone was so sure he was the Boy-Who-Lived," said Harry. "He said Dumbledore had a good reason, but he wouldn't tell him what that reason was. D'you reckon it has anything to do with any prophecy?"

"It could well be," nodded 'Alec'. "It took my Dumbledore until the end of fifth year for him to tell me, and that was only after I found out that there was some kind of prophecy. In fact, it was over a year after Riddle was resurrected too…"

"Hold on…" interrupted Harry. "Who's Riddle? That's twice you've said that name now."

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," responded 'Alec'. "Voldemort's real name, named after his Muggle father."

"Muggle?" exclaimed Harry. "You mean… Voldemort's a Half-blood?"

"Ironic, isn't it?" smirked 'Alec'. "The leader of the Death Eaters, whose sole purpose was to wipe out all Muggles, Muggle-borns and anyone remotely connected to Muggles, was in fact the son of a Muggle."

"Bloody hell!" mumbled Harry. "All this time I thought he was just another 'I'm-better-than-you' Pure-blood, when really, he's one of the biggest hypocrites that ever lived."

"Speaking of which, what's the situation with him just now?" asked 'Alec'.

"You mean Quirrell?" replied Harry. "Not much. I know he hasn't made his move yet, and I still haven't found out what this 'stone' is that he's after either. In fact, I've really just been spending the last few weeks staying out of his way and trying to learn as much from those books you suggested."

"You've got your own copies?" asked 'Alec'.

"Yeah," answered Harry. "The day after you left, Pince noticed the books were missing. I managed to sneak off the Diagon Alley using some Floo and get some replacements while The Guys planted the books on some of our 'fellow' Slytherins."

"Fair enough," nodded 'Alec'. "So what now?"

"Well, Sirius's coming tomorrow, Merlin help us…" began Harry.

"What's wrong with Sirius?" interrupted 'Alec', sounding slightly offended.

"He'll comes in here, probably throw some not-so-subtle anti-Slytherin barbs in my direction and his kids are pests, that's mostly what's wrong," replied Harry.

There was a slight pause, after which 'Alec' simply said, "Sirius has kids?" in an almost disbelieving voice.

"Yeah, Dominic and Gregory," sighed Harry. "Dominic's the same age as Annie… nine." he added in for 'Alec's' benefit. "… and Gregory's seven. Bloody pests, both of them. Still, at least Nicholas, Emily and Samantha aren't too bad…"

"Who…?" 'Alec' began to ask.

"Remus and Peter's children." replied Harry.

"Peter? Peter Pettigrew!" exclaimed 'Alec'.

"Yes, Peter Pettigrew, Annie's godfather…" began Harry, wondering what the big deal was.

"Oh my god…" groaned 'Alec'.

"What?" said Harry irritably. "What's wrong?"

'Alec' responded with a sigh. "He never joined the Death Eaters in this reality, am I right?"

"What? Death Eaters? No, of course he didn't!" Harry almost shouted.

"And was he your parents' secret keeper here?" continued 'Alec'.

"Yes, he was!" replied Harry. "That's why the Death Eaters kidnapped and tortured him!"

"Torture?" gasped 'Alec'.

"Yes, torture!" responded Harry. "That's why he's only got one eye and seven fingers! Even now he feels guilty about giving in and betraying us!"

"Alright, alright, alright, I'm sorry," said 'Alec' quickly. "It's just… well… he betrayed my parents in my reality. Did a lot worse afterwards too – framed my godfather and got him locked up in Azkaban for twelve years, took part in Riddle's resurrection, killed Remus, ended up getting shot in the head by yours truly… you can see why I don't particularly like him, can't you?"

After seeing his other self's memories earlier on, Harry didn't think anything about 'Alec's' life could shock him even more than 'Alec's' childhood, yet there he was, sitting on the bed in one of the guest bedrooms, shocked beyond belief – 'Alec's' version of Peter was a traitor. Because of the other Peter, the other version of Sirius, who by the sound of things, was 'Alec's' godfather, had been locked away in Azkaban for over a decade. Also, the other version of Harry's own godfather had apparently been murdered… by Peter. Harry simply couldn't believe it – the Peter he knew would never have, and indeed hadn't, done anything like the other one apparently did.

"Maybe we should continue this some other time," suggested 'Alec' when he saw that his other self probably wasn't feeling very talkative any more.

Harry nodded slightly in response before placing his hand on the parchment. "Thanks for the advice."

"Any time," replied 'Alec' as he vanished, leaving Harry alone as his mind attempted to digest everything he'd heard tonight about Voldemort, prophecies and his sister's godfather. Eventually, however, Harry decided he should probably go to bed, especially after he saw that it was nearly one in the morning.

_Bloody hell, _was his last thought before going to sleep.

-

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Thanks for all the suggestions concerning Godric's Hollow.

Remus and Peter are not a couple in this. Nicholas & Emily are Remus's children and Samantha is Peter's daughter.


	11. Christmas at Home

**SUMMARY**

Harry James Potter is the only person to have ever survived the Avada Kedavra curse. Unfortunately, his twin brother, Michael Stephen Potter, mistakenly proclaimed as the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. As he grows up, Harry becomes withdrawn and distant from his family. However, when Harry and Michael receive their Hogwarts letters, Harry sees it as a chance to finally prove to himself and to everyone else who the true 'Boy-Who-Lived' is…

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

I would like to thank…

This website – For providing a forum where people like me can write stuff that people will actually get to see. Also thanks to those who have encouraged this spin-off the 'The Lone Traveller'

J.K. Rowling – They are her characters after all.

**CHAPTER ELEVEN – Christmas at Home.**

_Well… _thought Harry as he lounged around in the living room after having breakfast. _It's five past nine, and Sirius & family are due here at about half past, so that gives me around about twenty-five minutes to kill. So what should I do? Let's see… Mum's in the kitchen, Michael's still eating breakfast, Merlin knows where Annie's got to and Dad's still out on his morning jog…_

"Hey, Harry," said Annie as she entered the living room.

_Correction: Annie's in here now, _thought Harry as he watched his little sister collapse on the sofa.

"Oh, I forgot to ask, who won the competition this year?" Annie asked suddenly.

"I did," replied Harry after his mind had processed the unexpected question.

"You?" exclaimed Annie incredulously. "But you've never won! You're lying…"

"Michael!" called out Harry.

"Yeah?" Michael called back from the kitchen.

"Remind me, who won the competition this year?" shouted Harry.

There was a slight pause before Michael replied. "You did," he responded with a noticeable sigh in his voice.

"See?" said Harry triumphantly.

"But you never win!" repeated Annie. "Every year, it's either me or Michael that win."

"Well, he won this year," said Michael as he entered the living room, a piece of toast in his hand. "From behind, of course," he added.

"Same tactic that's served both of you perfectly well every other year," Harry immediately pointed out. "I just happened to get you first."

"Yeah, well you're not going to win next year," retorted Michael.

"That's the spirit, Prongslet!" said a voice from the hall.

_Oh god, they're early… _groaned Harry.

"The perfect attitude for a perfect Gryffindor," continued Sirius Black as he came into the living room, followed by his two sons, Dominic and Gregory. "And little Annie, my how you've grown since I last saw you."

"But you saw me when you were here last week," replied Annie.

"Ah, yes, so I did," Sirius grinned. "And young Harry," he continued, his attention focusing on his godson's twin. "How goes it in the House of the Serpent? Snivellus still the greasy git he's always been?" He stopped there when he saw the grin on Harry's face. "What are you grinning at?"

"Y'know, Sirius, I was thinking of maybe responding with some equally 'witty' retort," said Harry. "However, I have some winnings to collect." He looked at Michael and addressed him. "Two Galleons, as we agreed – first mention of Slytherin, he'd ask what it's like having 'Snivellus' as Head of House."

"But you said Dad and Padfoot would start reminiscing about 'Snivellus' and the pranks they pulled on him too," Michael protested, not quite willing to accept defeat just yet. "And they haven't…"

"Only because Dad's not here at the moment," Harry interrupted.

"Fine, but you only win half the bet," Michael offered as a compromise.

With that, he reached into his pocket, took out one Galleon and tossed the gold coin to his brother, who caught it and pocketed it. It was at that point that both Potter twins realised that, between them, they had just managed to do something that had never been done before.

They had rendered Sirius Orion Black completely and utterly speechless.

Dominic and Gregory, however, were simply confused.

"What're you two talking about?" asked Dominic.

"Doesn't matter, Dom'," said Michael. "Just Harry being a Slytherin…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" exclaimed Harry. "Back off there, Oh Famous One! If I wanted to hear that kind of anti-Slytherin propaganda, I'd listen to a recording of Lee Jordan's Quidditch commentary!"

"Hey there, Padfoot," James's voice interrupted as he came in. "What's going on in here then?"

"Well, Prongs," Sirius began, his tone one of mock-indignation. "I have just found out that your _wonderful_ sons here made a bet on whether the two of us would start reminiscing about Snivellus the second anyone mentioned the fact that Harry's a Slytherin."

"You mean like the time we charmed his robes pink and his hair orange?" replied James.

"Yeah," laughed Sirius. "That was brilliant…"

As Sirius said this, the grin on Harry's face re-appeared. Sighing heavily, Michael tossed the second Galleon over to Harry.

"… and the look on his face when he realised he was bald…" continued Sirius.

"Um… Dad," interrupted Dominic. "I think Harry just won his bet."

Luckily, both James and Sirius saw the humour in what had just happened and, after James made a new rule that no-one made any more bets at the expense of himself or any of the Marauders, the topic of conversation changed once Lily and Barbara, Sirius's wife, entered the living room. Sitting back slightly, Harry listened as the adults began talking about the usual adult things while Annie, Dominic and Gregory proceeded to interrogate Michael on what life was like at Hogwarts. Indeed, everything was going well until young Gregory mentioned something about the bet between Harry and Michael, which didn't please Lily at all.

"You two were gambling!?!" she almost yelled.

Immediately, Annie suggested to Dominic and Gregory that they go outside for a snowball fight, at which point they quickly made their exit, just as Sirius suggested to James and Barbara that they leave the scene before the 'Lily Rage' surfaced.

"It was only two Galleons," replied Michael feebly.

"I don't care!" yelled Lily. "You know I will not tolerate gambling in this house! Who made the bet?"

"Um…" said Michael. "Well, Harry was the one who said…"

"Hold on there, Wonder Twin!" interrupted Harry forcefully. "You were the one who made it a bet."

"But you're the one who accepted it," Michael countered. "And made it a cash bet, I might add."

"At which point, you accepted and shook hands on it…" replied Harry.

"Okay, okay, just forget it," interjected Lily, shaking her head slightly. "Just… behave – especially while we have guests. And no more betting." She paused, taking a deep breath to calm herself down. "Now, go outside and enjoy the snow."

With that, Lily left the living room, sighing slightly as she did so, leaving the two brothers on their own.

"What in Merlin's name was that?" snarled Harry once he was sure their mother was out of earshot.

"What? I was just…" began Michael.

"Blaming it on me!" interrupted Harry. "You know what she's like when it comes to gambling, and yet you try and make me take the blame! Every bloody time something like this happens, you do this! 'Oh, it was Harry's fault…', 'oh, it was Harry who started the whole thing'…"

"Hey!" yelled Michael indignantly. "Don't you start with me, brother, or…"

"Or what?" Harry responded coldly, cutting his brother off rather abruptly. "You ragged-scarred, ignorant, pathetic excuse for a twin brother! Are you seriously gonna deny that everything you do somehow ends up being blamed on me? You blast me ten years into the future with a faulty Time Turner and I get the blame! You fall out of a tree and say I dared you to climb it! I even got the blame for that prank you pulled on Peter involving that tripwire and the water pistol full of Coca Cola! Annie refused to speak to me for over a fortnight because of that, and you had the audacity to say I couldn't really blame her!"

"Harry…"

"No, you just shut up, Michael!" yelled Harry. "I don't want to hear it okay, so just shut up!"

Before Michael could respond in any way, Harry turned around and walked up the stairs, leaving his twin brother standing in the hall as Lily came through from the kitchen to see what all the noise was about.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Hey, hey, hey, don't point that magic stuff at me!" exclaimed David Appleby.

"It's just a book, David," Roger sighed for at least the ninth time.

"Yeah?" responded Roger's older brother. "What if it explodes or something?"

"Look, it's not going to explode, or turn you into a frog, or turn your hair purple, okay?" said Roger impatiently. "It's just a book about magic."

"But…"

"Mum!" yelled Roger.

"Okay, okay, okay, I'm sorry…" stammered David. "Just… promise me you won't turn me into a toad or anything like that, alright?"

"Fine, I promise," replied Roger. "Now will you please just leave me alone? I'm trying to read!"

With that, David sat down and kept quiet, until he heard a noise coming from Roger's pocket.

"What's that?" he exclaimed.

"Relax," sighed Roger. "It's just one of my friends trying to make contact." Closing his book, Roger got up and left the living room. Halfway up the stairs, he paused and took the vibrating mirror out of his pocket and flipped it open.

"Hey, Roger, are you there?" asked the caller.

"Yeah, Blaze, I'm here," replied Roger. "What's up?"

"Just thought I'd try and see if I could have at least one semi-intelligent conversation this Christmas," said the image of Blaise.

"Things not going well at home?" concluded Roger.

"Now that's an understatement…" sighed Blaise. "Most of my family's here and they're driving me insane! They keep asking me about Hogwarts and about these 'mudbloods' they've heard are in Slytherin this year. Merlin knows what they're going to do when they find out about us being friends. The fact that Spence and I are friends is bad enough as far as they're concerned. Add in Harry Potter the Half-Blood and Roger Appleby the Muggle-born and things are bound to get ugly."

"Sorry to hear that, Blaze," said Roger. "The only trouble I've had here is my brother, David. He's convinced I'm going to turn him into something if he stays around me too long."

"Why does he think that?" asked Blaise.

"Well, he did pick on me quite a lot before any of us knew about magic, so that might explain it," replied Roger. "Still, at least Dad seems to've got over the shock…"

"Hey, Blaise, ya there?" interrupted a third voice. "Blaise?"

"Yeah, I'm here Spence," replied Blaise. "Rodge is too."

"Oh, hey there Rodge," said Spencer, the image in Roger's mirror splitting in two as he spoke. "How're things?"

"Apart from my brother acting like I'm a walking time-bomb, everything's fine," said Roger. "You?"

"Hellish," responded Spencer with a sigh. "It's even worse now because of Hal."

"Why? What did he do?" asked Blaise.

"Nothing – he just told me to tell anyone who kept going on about me being a Slytherin that if they didn't stop, he would make sure the Hufflepuff Quidditch team would suffer a humiliating defeat when we play them… so, like a total idiot, I did," answered Spencer. "It didn't really go down well – I've just had to de-gnome the garden as punishment, as well as having to apologise to Granddad for being rude."

"That doesn't sound that bad," noted Roger.

"Well, it wouldn't be if it hadn't set Granddad going again about Slytherins being the worst of the four houses," said Spencer. "The only difference now is that he's going on about Slytherins having no manners. Merlin, who would have thought there would be a time when I didn't look forward to dinner?"

"Well at least you don't have PFBs for relatives," said Blaise. "The worst thing about being home is that the Malfoys are coming around here tomorrow and I'll no doubt be expected to spend time with _Draco_."

"Oh Merlin…" mumbled Spencer. "That's bad."

"Yeah, and he'll be worse now," agreed Blaise. "I mean, I didn't even like him before we started Hogwarts."

"Well, at least it can't really get any worse," said Roger reassuringly.

"It will once my wonderful relatives find out who my friends are, which they probably will if Malfoy has anything to say about it," said Blaise.

"Well, if things get too bad, you know where my house is," said Spencer in response.

"What about your family?" asked Blaise. "You know how much they 'disapprove' of me."

"We'll deal with them if we have to," replied Spencer.

"What about my place?" interjected Roger. "I'm sure Mum and Dad wouldn't mind if you stayed here for a while, especially when I tell them why you'd rather be here than at home."

"Really?" said Blaise hopefully. "You sure?"

"Well, I'll ask, but if you need to get away and can't stay at Spence's, then I'm sure things'll be fine," replied Roger.

"Thanks, Rodge," said Blaise. Blaise's image paused slightly and glanced to one side. "Oh Merlin," he muttered.

"What is it?" asked Spencer.

"It's Dad," grimaced Blaise. "I'd better go."

"Hey, don't worry. Maybe your mother'll live up to her reputation," joked Spencer. "That way, you won't have to worry about your dad anymore."

"Go jump in a canal, Spence," replied Blaise with an equally joking voice before his image faded away.

"What was that supposed to mean?" asked a confused Roger.

"Oh, just something everyone says about Blaise's mother," replied Spencer. "It's said she's had seven husbands and all of 'em died under mysterious circumstances."

"Really?" exclaimed Roger.

"No, of course not really," said Spencer. "Blaise's dad is only her fourth husband."

"You mean… hold on… oh, never mind," spluttered Roger. "So… uh…" Suddenly, Roger remembered something. "You said Harry told you to say that he would beat Hufflepuff. Did you speak to him then?"

"Yeah, last night," said Spencer. "Oh, and he mentioned that parchment the other him left behind. Said it had a projection of 'Alec' and all his memories too."

"Really? Cool," said Roger. "Anything else?"

"Just that he the other him's childhood wasn't a particularly happy one," said Spencer. "He didn't really say anything else."

"Okay then," replied Roger. "Look, I'm gonna go ask Mum and Dad about Blaise while it's fresh in my head. I'll talk to you later, Spence."

"Don't be a stranger," was the last thing Spencer said before his image disappeared.

Roger flipped the mirror closed and re-pocketed it before going downstairs. He soon found both his parents sitting in the conservatory overlooking the back garden.

"Um… Mum? Dad? Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked.

Mr Appleby, who had just started reading, lowered the newspaper slightly. "What's wrong? You haven't turned David into a frog, have you?" he asked jokingly.

"Um… no," replied Roger quietly. "Look, um, if one of my friends had, uh, problems at home…"

"Yes, go on," prompted Roger's father, who by now had a slightly concerned look on his face, as did Roger's mother.

"Well, if his family, uh… say, disapproved of his choice of friends once they found out…" continued Roger. "Would they be able to… stay here for a while? Just until we go back to Hogwarts…?"

"Why are you asking this, Roger?" asked Mrs Appleby, hoping there was no particular reason for her son's question.

"Well, you see… Blaise's family doesn't know one of his three best friends is a Muggle-born – at least not yet," said Roger. "And, uh, we don't think they'll be too happy when they find out, so…"

"So you're wondering if your friend would be able to stay here if anything bad happens," finished Mr Appleby.

"Oh, come now, Roger," interjected Mrs Appleby. "I'm sure there's nothing to worry about."

"Mum, trust me, I know how seriously some wizards take blood purity," said Roger. "If Blaise's parents are as racist as he says they are, then he could be in serious trouble."

"I don't understand. What do you mean 'blood purity'?" asked Mrs Appleby. "Why is it such a problem?"

"Um… well… it's a bit like racism," said Roger. "Some wizards hate Muggles the same way some people hate black people. There's no real reason for it, they just do. People like Malfoy or Garrett just hate Muggles or anyone connected to them in any way for no reason."

"So what has this got to do with your friend?" asked Mrs Appleby.

"Well… see, when Blaise's parents find out that one of his friends is a Muggle-born, they aren't going to be very happy about it," replied Roger, wondering what was so hard to understand.

"And you think that your friend's parents will throw him out of the house because he's friends with you," finished Mr Appleby, who obviously understood what his son was getting at.

"Maybe," said Roger.

"Well then, don't worry," said Mr Appleby. "If any of your friends need somewhere to stay, then they're welcome to stay here."

Roger gave a sigh of relief. "Thanks Dad…"

"But no magic, you hear?" Roger's father interrupted.

"Don't worry," replied Roger, shaking his head. "We're not allowed to use magic outside school anyway, at least, not 'til we're 17…"

"What?" growled a voice from behind Roger.

_Uh oh, _thought Roger as he whirled around and saw a very angry David. _So much for not having to worry about David this Christmas…_

Without another thought, he started backing away before turning and running through the back door the second he saw the look on David's face.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"Padma! Where are you?" an elderly voice called up the stairs. "You had better not be reading instead of spending time with your family…"

Padma put down her book and sighed. "Coming, Grandmother," she called back.

As she had half-expected, she wasn't enjoying her time at home much at all. Her grandmother had, as always, showered Parvati with praise, especially when Parvati told her that she was definitely taking Divination in third year. Padma, when asked the same question, had tried to make it sound as if she hadn't made up her mind, but even that hadn't gone down too well. '_You really should take more of an interest in our traditions, Padma,' _was once again her grandmother's response.

_Why can't she just appreciate me for who I am? _Padma wondered with some resentment. _Parvati hasn't exactly blown anyone away with her performance at Hogwarts, yet she's the one who always gets the praise. But why? What makes her so worthy of being so popular with everyone? What is it about her that makes people say I should be more like her…?_

"What?" exclaimed Harry. "Why the hell would anyone want you to be like Parvati? What's so special about her?"

Padma couldn't help but smile at the memory of her first conversation with Harry Potter. _At least someone prefers me over Parvati, _she thought as she left her room and walked downstairs.

Suddenly, as she reached the bottom of the stairs, Padma felt her feet lose their grip on the floor. For a split second, she was airborne before landing on the floor in a very ungraceful fashion.

As Padma got up, she heard two nearby voices sniggering quietly. _When are those two going to grow up? _Padma wondered irritably as she heard her two cousins scurry away before she could see them. Getting to her feet, she turned and saw exactly what Sonjay & Raj had used to send her flying.

"Gambol & Japes' Slippery Slime," she muttered as she ran her hand through the stuff. "Wonderful…"

"Padma?" she heard her mother call out. "Was that you? What was all that noise?"

"Nothing, Mum," Padma responded. "Just my wonderful cousins trying to kill me…" she added under her breath.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

_Oh Merlin, why didn't I stay at Hogwarts? _Harry wondered as he sat on his bunk, his head in his hands. _It's only Sunday and I've already screwed things up. What in Merlin's name was I thinking, yelling at Michael like that? I mean, besides being yelled at afterwards, now everyone in the house's giving me the cold shoulder. And there's still two weeks left! _Harry glanced at the clock on the bedroom wall. _Half past eleven. Guess now's a good time to go for that walk. _

With that, Harry grabbed his now two-week old Leather Jacket and put it on before quietly making his way down the stairs.

His plan was simple – he would go out for a VERY long walk and by the time he got back, Dumbledore would hopefully have come and gone.

He had considered staying and trying to get some information from Dumbledore, but had quickly realised that it would be better to avoid the Hogwarts headmaster for now as he knew that if Dumbledore tried using Legilimency, his defences would quickly crumble, something that Harry wasn't willing to take a chance with. He had also never trusted Albus Dumbledore for some reason, though he didn't quite know why. What Harry did know was that, for whatever reason, one of the last people he wanted to know what he was thinking was Albus Dumbledore, Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry.

So Harry went for a walk through Godric's Hollow, up the snow covered hill and into Gryffindor Forest.

Just over three hours later, he emerged from the forest and walked back down into the village.

"Hey there, Alun," said Harry as he entered Llewellyn's, shivering slightly. "How's things?"

"Harry?" said Alun Llewellyn, the son of the shop's owner. "When did you get back?"

"Friday," replied Harry. "I was going to come and get some stuff yesterday but… well, I guess I didn't get 'round to it. So, how's everything been?"

"Oh, things've been fine," the nineteen-year-old grinned. "Dad still hasn't given Huw that football back yet, in case you're wondering."

"You're kidding!" exclaimed Harry. "How long's that been now?"

"Just over a year and a half," replied Alun. "It's still sitting around in Dad's study – I think he's adopted it as a sort of trophy or something."

"Sounds like I haven't missed much then," said Harry. "Anyway…"

"They're over there, as always," interrupted Alun. "Y'know, Spearmint Polo sales seriously dropped after you left."

"I'm sure they did," said Harry as he grabbed several packets of the mints in question.

"So how's Hogwarts been?" Alun asked as Harry approached the counter. "Annie told me you're a Slytherin these days. Any good?"

"Not too bad," Harry shrugged. "Just ignore the Pureblood fanatics and all the anti-Slytherins from the other houses and everything's fine."

"That's good to hear," nodded Alun. "That's one of the few things I didn't like about Hogwarts – the whole house rivalry thing. Gryffindor hates Slytherin, Slytherin hates Gryffindor, Everyone looks down on Hufflepuffs… that really got on my nerves, especially all the stereotypes like all Gryffindors are goody two-shoes, Ravenclaws are a bunch of smart-arses and Slytherins are all conniving, untrustworthy bigots. The one about Hufflepuffs being nothing special was probably the daftest though."

"Well you would say that, wouldn't you, Mister 'Hufflepuff's star Chaser'," Harry quipped as he put the Polos on the counter.

"True," admitted Alun. "So, are you paying with Pounds or Galleons?"

"Here," responded Harry, handing one of the Galleons he'd won from Michael the day before to Alun.

"And there's the change," replied Alun, handing back a small number of coins as Harry put the half-dozen packets of Spearmint Polos in his jacket pocket.

"Thanks," said Harry. Suddenly, something occurred to him. "Hey, Alun… since when is this place open on Sunday?"

"Since the beginning of November," answered Alun. "We're only open from one 'til four though."

"Better than nothing, I suppose," said Harry. "Anyway, I'd better go. Say 'hi' to your Dad for me."

"See you around, Harry," Alun replied as Harry left the shop.

Opening the first pack, Harry put three Polos in his mouth. As the exquisite spearmint flavour filled the inside of his mouth, Harry glanced as his watch. _Ten to three, _Harry thought to himself as his house came into view. _Old Carpet Beard should be gone by now…_

Closing the front door quietly behind him, Harry listened carefully, just to make sure the Hogwarts headmaster wasn't there before he let anyone know he was back. Unfortunately…

"Ah, yes, Minerva did mention that little incident to me only yesterday…"

_Oh bugger, he's still here? _thought Harry, trying not to curse out loud. Slowly, he backed away towards the door again, hoping to stay out of the way just a little longer. _Maybe I should go and see Kenny. He'll probably want to hear all about Hogwarts, seeing as he's going next year. Then again, if he's anything like Annie's been…_

"Ah, it seems that young Harry has returned from his walk," Harry suddenly heard Dumbledore proclaim.

_What…? How…? How did he know I was…? _Harry's thoughts exploded. _Damnit, Damnit, Damnit! _

Trying to look as if he'd just come in, which in truth, he had, Harry took of his jacket and entered the living room.

"Hi," he said nonchalantly.

"Harry!" exclaimed Lily. "Where have you been?"

"Just went for a walk," replied Harry. "Why, did I miss something?" He then pretended to notice Dumbledore. "Ah, Professor Dumbledore, nice to see you. How's things?"

"Very well, my boy," replied Dumbledore, choosing to ignore the slight hint of sarcasm in Harry's voice. He had been expecting the boy to be slightly hostile, just as he had been in their previous encounters, and though it hurt him to see that Harry obviously didn't trust him, Dumbledore accepted that the boy probably had some kind of reason for it. "I would offer you a Lemon Drop, but I see you already have your own sweets…"

"Polos!" exploded Annie as she entered the living room. "Can I have one? Please? Please, please, please, please, please…!"

_Oh god… _thought Harry. "Annie," he sighed as he held the already open packet out of her reach. "You have had access to Llewellyn's entire stock of Spearmint Polos for the last four months while I, on the other hand, haven't had a single Polo since August."

"Can I have one then?" Michael interjected, grabbing the pack out of Harry's hand as he entered the room.

"_You_ don't even like them!" Harry exclaimed as he snatched the packet back.

The adults watched the scene with mild amusement, especially when Harry went on to mention that by the time the Summer Holidays came around, he'd have missed out on the 'Cream Eggs'. At this point, Dumbledore decided to join the discussion.

"Begging my pardon, but what are 'Cream Eggs'?"

"Cadbury's Cream Eggs…" said Harry. "…are perhaps mankind's greatest accomplishment!"

"Oh, come on!" snorted Michael. "Chocolate Frogs are way better!"

Harry's subsequent response was, Dumbledore thought, very much unlike the kind one would normally expect from an eleven-year-old.

"Michael," said Harry, seemingly at random. "Where would I find a Bezoar stone?"

"Huh?" was Michael's only response.

"What would I get if I added Powdered Root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?" Harry asked, trying not to smirk at his brother's reaction.

"Uh… I, uh…" responded Michael as he wondered why Harry was asking him these seemingly random things.

"What are the petals of a Frinassic Plant and Sunflower seeds essential ingredients of?" Harry finished.

Michael shook his head slightly. "Dunno," he finally admitted.

"So, nearly four months after you were asked those questions in our first Potions lesson and you still can't answer any of them," smirked Harry. "And you expect us to take your word seriously?"

"Harry!" exclaimed Lily suddenly. "Both of you, behave!"

"No, no, no, it is quite alright, Lily," Dumbledore chuckled. "Though perhaps Harry may be able to answer some more questions, if he wouldn't mind…"

"What kind of questions?" asked Harry suspiciously.

"Just a number of academic questions, my boy," replied Dumbledore. "I have heard that you are quite the star pupil. Perhaps, Lily and James, you would like to contribute…"

"Now hold on!" interrupted Harry. "This's supposed to be the Christmas Holidays, the key word being '_holidays'…_"

"Aw, is little Harry scared?" taunted Michael as he sat down. "Chicken!"

"Yeah – Scaredy-chicken, scaredy-chicken!" Annie began singing.

"Why don't you two go and hang out with Dominic and Gregory?" asked Harry with a slight sneer. "I hear Greg's just learned the four times table – maybe he'll teach the two of you if you ask nicely."

As Lily opened her mouth to intervene, she stopped as she saw Dumbledore shaking his head slightly. "Say something!" she hissed to her husband, who had thus far said nothing since Harry had come back in – James saw what Dumbledore was doing and was keeping quiet.

Dumbledore sat back and watched as the three children exchanged barbs and insults, Michael and Annie's being the kind one would expect from an eleven and nine year old, while Harry's were more… subtle. That was perhaps the best way to describe it. Michael was blunt and to the point, while Harry's insults were more… interesting. Rather than simply throwing an insult at his opponents, Harry seemed to be able to string together a long insult, replete with unfavourable comparisons, background information on said opponents and _plenty_ of sarcasm

_Just like Tom…_

Eventually, the argument died down. _Hold on, _Harry thought suddenly. _Why hasn't Mum stopped us? Normally, she would've stopped us arguing by the second insult at least… ah crap! _His eyes flicked briefly in Dumbledore's direction. _He was watching me, seeing how I responded to Michael and Annie! But why? What's he up to?_

"Well, that was entertaining," grinned James, earning a disapproving look from Lily.

"Indeed it was," agreed Dumbledore. "Now, perhaps we can begin with some questions…"

"What?" protested Harry. "Hold on…"

"Where did Snow Trestlers originally come from?" began Dumbledore.

"Greenland," replied Harry automatically. "Why…?"

"What spell would I use if I wanted to disarm someone?" added James, understanding Dumbledore's intentions.

"Expelliarmus," said Harry. "What's this all about…?"

"Who invented the Clearmind Concoction?" asked Dumbledore.

"John Wizzlebee," replied Harry, slower this time, having finally realised exactly what Dumbledore was doing. _Alright then, you senile old git, let's see how you deal with a little bit of impatience on my part…_

"Who was the leader of the 1810 Goblin Reb…" Dumbledore began.

"LOOK, WILL YOU ALL JUST SHUT UP!!!" Harry suddenly exploded.

For a few seconds, there was silence and, as Harry expected, the expression on Dumbledore's face was one of mild surprise. However, before anyone could say anything else, Harry stormed out of the room, trying to resist the temptation of laughing out loud at the looks on everyone's faces.

Suddenly, Harry felt as if something had just slammed into the back of his head. Looking around, he saw Dumbledore's eyes fixed on him. As the two made eye contact, Harry realised that the headmaster was trying to use Legilimency. For a split-second, Harry felt as if some unseen force were trying to batter its way into his head. Concentrating as hard as he could, Harry tried to reinforce his Occlumency barriers, but they were no good – within seconds, Harry felt them crumble away to nothing. However, before Dumbledore could get into his mind, Harry broke eye-contact and ran up the stairs as fast as he could, leaving a very confused family and a yet again surprised Dumbledore.

"Um… Michael, Annie, could you leave the room for a minute?" James asked.

Rather than argue, the two children immediately got up and left the room. James then turned his attention to his old headmaster. "What's wrong?"

"I just tried using Legilimency on Harry," sighed Dumbledore. "Unfortunately, I ran into some resistance…"

"You used Legilimency on my son!?!" Lily interrupted forcefully.

"Lily…" began James, hoping to head off the coming argument before it started.

"No, James, it's quite alright. Lily has every right to be outraged," said Dumbledore. "But I think you may be interested in knowing that young Harry is most likely attempting to learn Occlumency."

"What?" exclaimed James. "Are you sure?"

"As I said, I ran into some resistance when I tried to enter your son's mind," elaborated Dumbledore. "However, it was quite weak resistance, which suggests that young Harry has only started learning it within the last few months."

"But why?" Lily asked out loud. "Why would he want to become an Occlumens?"

"I believe it is because he does not trust us," replied Dumbledore. "In my experiences with him, he has been especially cautious in my presence. Also, as you just saw, he was hesitant in displaying his knowledge, even if he did relent to some extent. You also saw his ability to surprise even me – that outburst was a calculated one."

"What are you saying, Albus?" asked Lily slowly, silently dreading the answer.

"I'm saying that your son is perfectly capable of manipulating others," replied Dumbledore. "He is also quite unpredictable, most likely by intention."

"Where are you going with this?" asked James, a hint of anxiety present in his voice.

The Hogwarts headmaster sighed heavily. "Every time I see Harry, I am reminded of a young Tom Riddle. They are very similar."

"You mean…?" began Lily.

"Yes," nodded Dumbledore. "It seems that our interpretation of the Prophecy may indeed be coming to pass, though I am still hoping that young Harry will prove us wrong…"

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

His breathing ragged and heavy, Harry lay on his bunk, completely exhausted by his attempts at Occlumency. Oblivious to what was being said downstairs, Harry closed his eyes and dozed off.

He was awoken about an hour later by something moving in his pocket. Rubbing his eyes, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the mirror as he lay back and opened it.

"Hey, Hal," said the image of Spencer. "How're things going?" He stopped and looked at Harry. "What's wrong?"

"Dumbledore's been," muttered Harry.

"What, already?" exclaimed Spencer. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," mumbled Harry. "I just have to get better at Occlumency, that's all."

"He tried Legilimalising you?" asked Spencer.

"Legilimising," corrected Harry. "And yeah, he tried it as I left the room. Can't tell if he got anything from my mind though."

"So what else did he do?" asked Spencer.

"Well, he watched me bicker with Michael and Annie, then he and Dad started asking me a load of trivia questions," continued Harry.

"Why'd he do that?" was Spencer's slightly confused response.

"Not sure, but I think Dumbledore was analysing me," replied Harry. "Y'know, trying to figure out my personality based on how I acted."

"Yeah, I figured that, but why'd he do it though?" said Spencer. "Why's he so interested in you?"

"Well, I'm in Slytherin now – everyone probably wants to keep an eye on me to make sure I don't go 'evil' or something," concluded Harry.

"Yeah, but it's the same with me too, and I haven't had a visit from Dumbledore," pointed out Spencer.

"You don't have a brother who's supposedly the saviour of the wizarding world," Harry countered.

"Good point," admitted Spencer.

"Anyway, how're the others?" asked Harry, changing the subject.

"Who?" said Spencer. "The Guys?"

"No, Spence, I meant the family of dancing Mongooses that moved in next door to you last week," said Harry sarcastically. "Of course I mean The Guys – have you spoken to any of them at all?"

"Yeah, we've spoken," Spencer answered quickly, noting the irritated tone in his friend's voice. "Blaise's keeping contact with us to a minimum though, just in case anyone sees or overhears him or something. Unfortunately, he told me yesterday that the Malfoys were coming 'round today, so me and Rodge've made plans just in case Malfoy decided to inform Blaise's family about me, you and Rodge not being Pureblood Fanatics."

"Plans? What plans?" said Harry. "Why wasn't I told about this?"

"We reckoned you had enough on your mind right now," replied Spencer. "Besides, would your family have let a Zabini stay with them for Christmas?"

"Probably not," admitted Harry. "But what about you? Surely your family's the same. You even told me that your parents didn't like you being friends with Blaise not too long ago."

"Yeah, that's why Rodge asked his parents," said Spencer.

"And they're okay with this?" asked Harry.

"Yup," nodded Spencer. "Now we'll just have to hope Blaise's family doesn't make too big a deal about him being friends with a Half-Blood, a 'Mudblood' and a Blood-Traitor when they find out."

XxXxXxXxXxX

The next day, Harry opened his mirror to find all three of his friend's staring back at him.

"Hey, Hal," Spencer greeted. "How're things today?"

"Pretty good," grinned Harry. "Remus arrived about an hour ago, and Peter half an hour before that so the house's pretty full at the moment. You?"

"Same as it's been since I got back," replied Spencer.

"We're both fine too," added Roger.

"Both?" said Harry. "You mean…?"

"Yep – I'm here in Gruesome with Rodge," confirmed Blaise.

"It's Grooseham!" corrected Roger. "Oh, why do I bother…?"

"So what happened?" Harry asked, ignoring Roger's outburst.

"Exactly what I thought would happen," replied Blaise. "The Malfoys came around and _Draco_ decided to 'mention' who my friends were. Needless to say, no-one was pleased, especially when they heard about you, Hal."

"Me?" said Harry. "What about Rodge? Surely he got a reaction."

"Oh, yes, he got a reaction too," replied Blaise. "I was yelled at, threatened with disownment, then grounded for the rest of the holidays."

"That was when Blaise called me," interjected Spencer. "I managed to help him sneak out and, sure enough, found that my parents wanted nothing to do with him, so we called Rodge, got on the Knight Bus and we all met in Grooseham. It's quite a nice place actually."

"So everything's fine now?" asked Harry.

"For now they are, but there is one problem," Blaise nodded.

"Which is?" said Harry.

"Technically, I'm a runaway," elaborated Blaise.

"Ah," responded Harry. "So if your parents report you missing and someone comes looking for you…"

"There'll be nothing Blaze can do about it, legally," finished Spencer.

"That's if they come," pointed out Roger. "Besides, do you really think any Pureblood Fanatics would ever think to look here? Come to think of it, would they even want to?"

"Probably not," agreed Blaise. "Not that I'm complaining, of course."

"So you'll be staying with Rodge for the time being," said Harry.

"Yeah," said Blaise. "By the way, Spence told us about Dumbledore 'analysing' you. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," replied Harry. "But being Legilimised does take a lot out of you if you try to fight back."

"I can imagine it would against someone like Dumbledore," nodded Blaise. "Still, it won't be long before we're all back at Hogwarts."

"Yeah," agreed Spencer. "Then we can really make the PFBs suffer!"

"Only if they make the first move though," added Roger quickly. "Just so we aren't seen as the aggressors," he added.

"Sounds like a plan," said Harry. "Anyhow, I'd better go downstairs and spend some time with the guests. Talk to you lot later."

With that, Harry closed the mirror and put it back in his pocket. Ignoring the pictures on the staircase wall, the contents of which were all commenting on how lovely it was to have everyone around for Christmas, Harry went downstairs.

"Hiya, Harry," said Samantha Pettigrew as Harry reached the bottom of the stairs. "You seen Annie anywhere?"

"No," responded Harry, glancing at the eight-year-old as she walked past him. "Where is everyone, by the way?"

"Mum and Dad are in the kitchen with Uncle James and Aunt Lily and the others," replied Samantha as she disappeared up the stairs.

_Which means Remus'll probably be in the living room, _thought Harry. Sure enough, when Harry went into the living room, he saw his godfather sitting in one of the armchairs, staring at a ring in his hand.

"You're thinking about Helen again, aren't you?" said Harry, distracting the werewolf from his thoughts.

"It's been three years, Harry," replied Remus, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper. "I miss her so much…"

"We all miss her," said Harry, sitting down beside his godfather.

Remus's only response was a heavy sigh. He then put his wife's wedding ring back into his pocket and turned to his godson. "Well, Harry, how has first year been so far?" he asked, changing the subject, no doubt trying to distract himself from thoughts of his late wife.

"Better than I expected," replied Harry honestly.

"I'm not surprised," said Remus. "The youngest Seeker in over a century and undefeated in all of your games so far…"

"I've only played one game, Remus," Harry pointed out. "Ravenclaw won't exactly be pushovers either."

"Lei Chang's daughter is the new Seeker for Ravenclaw, isn't she?" asked Remus.

"Yeah, Cho," answered Harry. "They beat Hufflepuff 180 points to 40 when Cho got the Snitch in just over five minutes. Apparently, Ravenclaw're now the favourites to win the Quidditch Cup this year."

"Oh? What about Slytherin?" said Remus. "I thought they were always the favourites to win, even when I was at school."

"That was before Harry Potter became Slytherin's Seeker," was Harry's response. "I mean, having a first year as a Seeker doesn't exactly give a team an aura of invincibility."

"But you did win your first game," said Remus. "While your broom was being jinxed as well, so I'm told."

"Yeah, I know," mumbled Harry. "Everyone was distracted though. The only reason I won is because I spotted it just after the jinxing stopped."

"But you did win though," insisted Remus.

"Yeah, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm any good," protested Harry.

"And yet, you won," Remus persisted.

"Yeah, I guess," sighed Harry, realising that it was pointless to try and argue.

"So how has everything else been?" asked Remus.

"Pretty good actually," said Harry. "Me and The Guys've been busy returning the favour and making the PFBs lives as miserable as possible, people're still calling me a show-off and a few're still calling me 'Troll-Killer' as well."

"So you've been busy," concluded Remus. "I, uh… I'm sorry I didn't come when you were attacked…" he added after a long pause.

"It was full moon, Remus, don't worry about it," interrupted Harry. "Besides, I wasn't in there long, though it felt like it at the time. Still, at least I'm even with those…"

"Ahem," Remus interrupted before Harry could finish. "Perhaps you should tell me who's who before you go any further."

"Okay… uh… well, the PFBs are basically all the Pureblood Fanatics, people like Malfoy, Garrett, Crabbe & Goyle, Parkinson, Bulstrode, their sort," explained Harry. "And The Guys are basically myself, Roger Appleby, Spencer Westwood and Blaise Zabini, or to put it another way, everyone in First Year Dorm B that isn't a PFB."

"Sounds like an interesting group," commented Remus.

"Yeah, well we've definitely made our mark on the school," Harry smirked, thinking of the scar on the wall of the Slytherin common room.

Remus, seeing the smirk on Harry's face, decided not to ask Harry to elaborate. Instead, the conversation continued with Harry telling Remus (almost) everything that had happened since September. Indeed, for the first time since coming back, Harry was glad that he'd come home for Christmas, if only to see Remus. Unfortunately, it soon became apparent that Remus had just been speaking to Annie.

"So, what's this I hear about you having a girlfriend?" Remus asked, grinning slightly.

"Oh god, not you too…" muttered Harry. "Let me guess – Annie's been trying to convince everyone that I have a girlfriend, right?"

"Well, she did mention that she saw you talking to a girl at King's Cross when she was asked, but it was Sirius who brought it up," replied Remus, noting the annoyed look on his godson's face.

"Sirius?" exclaimed Harry. "Oh no, don't tell me he's convinced too!"

"So I'm guessing it isn't true then," said Remus.

"No, it isn't true!" Harry almost shouted.

"What isn't true?" a voice asked from the doorway.

Looking up, Harry saw both Samantha and Annie entering the living room.

"Annie…" said Harry, glaring at his sister as he got up. "Come here a second…"

Seeing the expression on her brother's face, Annie quickly turned and fled to the safety of the kitchen while Harry stopped at the living room door and sighed.

XxXxXxXxXxX

_**ZABINI HEIR MISSING**_

_**By: Rita Skeeter**_

_Blaise Maurizio Zabini, 11, is missing, it was announced yesterday. Though details are sketchy, there are rumours that young Zabini has been kidnapped by persons unknown, while some believe that the boy has simply run away from home. Neither story has been confirmed or denied by the Zabini family, but whatever the case, the Daily Prophet's thoughts are with the Zabini family and we all hope for the safe return of young Blaise._

"Kidnapped by persons unknown?" Blaise repeated, his voice one of sheer disbelief after hearing the article being read loud out by Spencer via mirror.

"Well, what did you expect?" asked Spencer. "I mean, the Prophet always does this whenever someone disappears. Remember that one guy that was reported as kidnapped last year before it turned out he'd just gone for a hike or something?"

"Yeah, I remember that," replied Blaise. "It was a cousin of Cornelius Fudge or something, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, that's the one," confirmed Spencer. "Anyway, the good news is that both you and Hal have now been mentioned in the Prophet, which just leaves me and Rodge, _and_ you're still 'missing'."

"And the bad news?" asked Blaise.

"The bad news is that they've sent Aurors 'round," replied Spencer. "Hal's apparently had to deal with them too."

"Oh…" said Blaise. "Are you two okay?"

"I'm fine," said Spencer. "Apparently, Hal's not too happy with his dad though."

"Why?" asked Blaise.

"Well, his dad joined in with the questioning because he's an Auror, same as my dad," Spencer began.

"And…?" prompted Blaise.

"And, his dad's best friend was apparently in the same situation as you at one point, which is why Hal kept calling his dad a hypocrite for expecting him to tell them where you were when I called him earlier," explained Spencer.

"Oh… so… is there anything else I should know?" asked Blaise.

"Well, when he wasn't calling his dad a 'bloody hypocrite', Hal did say, and I quote, 'I don't fucking care if I'm the only one there, next year I'm bloody well staying at Hogwarts'," said Spencer.

"Well, I know he won't be alone next year," said Blaise. "What about you?"

"Oh, don't worry, I'll be there for Christmas next year," said Spencer. "What about Rodge though?"

"Well, if he has another shouting match with his brother like he did earlier, then he might well be joining us next Christmas," replied Blaise.

"What do you mean?" asked Spencer.

"He and his older brother, David, had a full blown row last night," Blaise began to explain. "Apparently, it had something to do with the fact that Rodge hadn't told anyone that he wasn't allowed to do magic, at which point, Rodge starting saying stuff like 'can you blame me' and about how he was fed up of David 'being such a git all the time'."

"Rodge said that?" exclaimed Spencer.

"Yeah," nodded Blaise. "I think the best line was 'just because I can't do magic here doesn't mean I'm gonna let you treat me like a fucking doormat'."

"Wait, wait, wait…" interrupted Spencer. "This is our Rodge we're talking about, right?"

"The very same," confirmed Blaise. "Believe me, it was a real shock to see Rodge yelling at someone the way he was."

"Looks like Garrett was right then about Rodge developing a backbone after all," Spencer grinned. "By the way, where is he right now?"

"Oh, he went out for a walk about ten minutes ago," replied Blaise.

XxXxXxXxXxX

_God it's freezing out here, _thought Roger as he sat on one of the swings in the middle of the empty playpark.

The eleven-year-old had been sitting on the swing for nearly fifteen minutes now, trying not to think about how much things had changed since that fateful day not long after the start of the summer holidays when he had received his letter from Hogwarts.

At first, he and the rest of his family had thought the whole thing was some kind of elaborate joke until two days later when a rather strange looking man had appeared on their doorstep claiming to be from Hogwarts.

After introducing himself as 'Randolph Wreyland, Professor of Muggle Studies', he had then proceeded to prove the existence of magic by turning their television into a scaled-down version of Nelson's Column.

This of course caused his mother to faint and his then fifteen-year-old sister to scream hysterically but eventually, order was restored by the elderly professor. After an explanation from the professor about the wizarding world, Roger was then told of a place called Diagon Alley and that he was to go there in two days time.

While the professor's visit had been overwhelming, everything somehow made sense to Roger – all those strange things that had happened over the years must have been magic. It must have been magic that had caused Mrs Oliver's hair to suddenly fall out in the middle of class, just after she had yelled at him for being late, and it must have been magic that had miraculously repaired that library book that David had stepped on.

Unfortunately, it also dawned upon David that was Roger who had been responsible for the strange things that had happened to him, but fortunately, the fear of Roger accidentally turning him into something unpleasant had saved Roger from any 'retribution' from his older brother.

Two days after the visit from Professor Wreyland, Roger and his family had found their way to the Leaky Cauldron where they had joined a tour of Diagon Alley alongside other Muggle-borns and their families. Roger had been slightly relieved to see that he wasn't the only one new to the idea of the existence of magic, but only slightly. The fact that there was an entire world out there that he had no idea existed continued to awe and, to an extent, scare him for the rest of the summer until the first of September, when he finally entered the world of witchcraft and wizardry as a Hogwarts student.

The journey from London to Hogwarts had been a less than encouraging start for Roger – he had only just got aboard the train when it started to move off and by then everybody seemed to have met up and started getting to know each other. As a result, Roger said very little to anyone on the journey while everyone else talked about such mysterious things as 'Quidditch', 'OWLs', 'Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw' and 'the Prophet'. Of course, Roger would soon know what all of those things were, but at the time, it was like he was on a completely different planet.

Eventually, the Hogwarts Express had arrived at its destination and, after the traditional first year boat trip across the lake, the first years had been sorted into one of the four houses by what appeared to be a tattered old hat. The fact that the tattered old hat suddenly started singing had startled Roger greatly, just as it had the other Muggle-born wizards and witches in the line, but Roger quickly realised that in this world of magic, such things were no doubt perfectly normal.

At this point, Roger's feelings of surprise immediately turned to dread when he realised that the sorting was to be done alphabetically. To his relief, however, he discovered that he would not be going first and watched as Hannah Abbott stepped forward and became a member of Hufflepuff.

Five minutes later, Roger was sitting at the Slytherin table, trying not to think about the rather tepid response his sorting had received from his new house-mates. What had he done to deserve such a nonchalant response compared to Hannah, who had received an avalanche of applause from the Hufflepuffs?

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, all became clear to him once the sorting had ended – just as the feast began, he had been asked to pass over a jug of Pumpkin Juice by a bespectacled boy with very messy dark hair. At that point, the young wizard started to talking to him, shortly followed by the two who were sitting beside the boy with the glasses. Before long, the four of them had been talking merrily away about just about everything, and although there were many things to take in, Roger couldn't help but notice something about the bespectacled boy, whose name was Harry – there was a look of what looked like relief on his face, as if he had just escaped a terrible fate. Of course, Roger soon learned the reason for that too when Spencer mentioned Harry's twin brother. However, Harry's response raised more questions – what did he mean by 'hit by a piece of wood' and why did he sound so... cold?

It was then that Roger realised that there was more to Harry Potter than met the eye. Even after Harry had explained what had happened, Roger knew that there was much more to Harry than the scar on his forehead. However, the next morning, Roger realised something else when he heard Harry mutter something as the timetables were handed out...

Harry looked at the goblet of Pumpkin Juice and frowned slightly. "Why in Merlin's name do I keep drinking this stuff? I don't even like it that much!" he muttered as he put the goblet down and looked at his timetable.

Although he hadn't brought it up with Harry or the others, Roger soon realised the deeper meaning behind those words – Harry didn't like Pumpkin Juice and yet, he had gone out of his way to make Roger pass a jug of it to him at the Sorting Feast in order to start up a conversation. In that one gesture, Harry had shown that he was willing to be a friend to Roger, something that Roger wouldn't soon forget.

Three and a half months had passed since that day and many things had happened – The Guys had come into being, Harry had become the one of the youngest ever Seekers in the history of Hogwarts, a Troll had gone on a rampage on Halloween and a feud had broken out between The Guys and the PFBs.

The PFBs.

Even now, Roger couldn't help but be taken aback at how much they hated him, just because he wasn't 'pure-blooded' – why was it such a big deal to these people? Why did it matter to them whether his parents were magical or not?

"_Um… well… it's a bit like racism. Some wizards hate Muggles the same way some people hate black people. There's no real reason for it, they just do. People like Malfoy or Garrett just hate Muggles or anyone connected to them in any way for no reason."_

Roger frowned slightly at the explanation that he had given his parents a few days earlier – the fact that people thought like that simply didn't make sense to Roger. Fortunately however, there were also those who opposed the PFBs mindset vehemently. It was only when he thought about it that Roger realised how much he actually owed his friends for both standing up for him and for being such good friends, especially when he remembered what he had been told by 'Alec' about the other reality's version of Roger Appleby.

_I wonder what he's up to right now?_ Roger thought idly. Of course, he soon realised that there was no way of knowing that. He could only hope that 'Alec' would continue to make a difference to people, the same way he had for Roger.

_Bloody hell, it's cold! _he thought, the temperature once again bringing him back to reality. _Maybe it's about time I went in…_

XxXxXxXxXxX

_Scanning the books on the shelves, Harry stopped when he finally reached the one he had been looking for. He reached out to grab it, only to make contact with another hand that was reaching for the same book. The moment they touched, both hands withdrew immediately. _

_Harry turned to see that the owner of the other hand was a dark-haired female, who was looking very embarrassed. "Sorry," she mumbled._

"_Uh… no, it's alright," said Harry, equally embarrassed for some reason. "Uh… were you wanting this one?" he continued pointing out the book still on the shelf._

"_No, it's… I, uh… It's okay," she stammered. "You had it first…"_

"_No, seriously, it's alright," said Harry. "If you're needing it, take it... I can manage without it."_

"_Really?"_

"_Really, it's fine," Harry nodded._

_Hesitantly, the girl reached out and grabbed the book. "Are you sure?" she continued once it was in her hands._

"_I'm sure," said Harry._

_The girl still looked unsure, but took the book anyway._

"Thank you_," she mumbled, before turning away and walking towards Madam Pince's desk._

"You're welcome_," Harry called out as she walked away…_

"Harryyyyyy!" squealed a much younger voice. "Wake up, it's Christmas!"

Harry woke with a start, his hand shooting out towards his glasses on the bedside table. Once he had them on, he realised who the voice belonged to. "What time is it?" he asked groggily.

"Morning," was the simply reply. Of course, it was unsurprising really, considering that at six years old, little Emily Lupin hadn't yet learned to tell the time. "C'mon, Harry, we're gonna miss the presents!"

Harry couldn't help but smile at his 'god-cousin's' enthusiasm. Annie had been the same on Christmas morning at that age, and if he was honest, he and Michael probably had been too. "Well then, Emmylou," he replied, swinging himself out of his bunk. "We'd better get downstairs then, before the presents get all lonely."

As he picked Emily up – _it won't be much longer before she's too big for me to do this,_ Harry thought with some sadness – he noticed the clock on the wall. _Half-Eleven? _he thought incredulously. _Since when do I sleep this late? And why didn't anyone wake me up?_ A glance at Michael's bunk told Harry that his brother was already up, so either Michael couldn't be bothered waking him, or he'd deliberately let him sleep in. Between the argument they'd had a few days before, and now everything between him and Dad, Harry concluded that Michael probably didn't want to make things worse by waking his brother early, or risking Harry hitting his head on the bottom of the top bunk, as often happened when Michael had tried waking Harry. Knowing Michael the way Harry did, that option made the most sense.

Making sure he had a firm grip on Emily, who had promptly snuggled up to Harry as she usually did when he carried her, Harry realised that he was still in his pyjamas and barefoot. After a few seconds, Harry decided to go down anyway – he could always come back up and get changed once Emmylou was downstairs and he'd had something to eat.

Suddenly, as he (and Emily) walked through the bedroom door, Harry was forced to stop as his forehead exploded in pain. Suppressing a hiss, lest he concern Emily, Harry waited for the stinging pain to go, which it did after only a few seconds, disappearing as suddenly as it had come. Fortunately, Emily didn't seem to have noticed his sudden stop, so once the pain had gone, Harry continued towards the stairs, silently hoping that nothing else went wrong today.

Because he was heading towards the stairs, Harry didn't notice the bathroom door opening up the hallway behind him. And because of that, he didn't notice his brother emerging from the door, rubbing his forehead…

–

**Author's Notes**

God, I hate this chapter.

Seriously – it's one thing to get writer's block in the middle of writing a chapter, but to get it several times over such a long period is something else. If it weren't for the fact that I've already got over six-and-a-half years worth of this story planned out, then this story would probably be long dead in my mind as well as on the web.

Unfortunately, the length of time it took to write this, plus all the long periods of writer's block mean that this chapter is a complete mess. Add to that all the different directions I was trying to go at different times, and you can see why I'm not happy with this one. In fact, I'm seriously tempted to just skip over the rest of the Christmas holidays and _try_ to get this story rolling again. That being said, it may be a little while before I get the next chapter out, what with my life being very different now compared to when I started this story.

Still, at least I managed to get some of the things I wanted to achieve into this chapter, and as you can probably tell from the last section, there's still more to all this than meets the eye.

Now, since the last chapter, the final book in the Harry Potter series has been released. Thus, there will be a few things in both this story and The Lone Traveller that don't quite match what was revealed in the Deathly Hallows. First of all, I would like to say that I have not read the Deathly Hallows, nor can I honestly say I really want to. Thus, while I have taken a few steps to ensure that DH and my stories don't completely invalidate one another (mainly in regards to the 'Harrycrux' issue), I would like to state quite clearly that there will be no 'Deathly Hallows' or 'Elder Wands' in either of my stories (nor a confirmed 'Harrycrux').

Just in case it isn't clear in this chapter – Nicholas and Emily are the children of Remus and his late wife, Helen. Samantha is the daughter of Peter Pettigrew and his wife, Sarah.

**Goofball44306 – **I'm afraid I already have my own plans for the fifth mirror, and they don't involve Padma.

**Slaphanson – **Interesting thought about Dumbledore and the prophecy, but as I've said before, there's a reason that Dumbledore's certain that Michael's the Chosen One.

**Kin Pandun – **My own personal interpretation of Dumbledore is that of a man who is so brilliant that it's difficult for him to consider that his way might not be the right way, partly because of his age (I'm sure a over a hundred years as 'the greatest wizard of our age' would do that to a person, no matter how humble they are). So, no, Dumbledore isn't a manipulative bastard in this story (or TLT).

**Sideline – **I'm glad you approve of the way I'm handling Hal's character. Power-wise, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by the way they develop. I'm also glad you mentioned his insecurity – we can see in this chapter the contradiction in his character, in that consciously, he doesn't want everyone to know how powerful or intelligent he is, but subconsciously, he doesn't want people to think that he's nothing special (hence his automatically answering Dumbledore's trivia questions the way he did, rather than pretending to be ignorant).

**Nyeshet** – A very well though out review there. Unfortunately, the 'yell of horror' comes from Voldemort as he realises that the Avada Kedavra has rebounded and his body is torn to shreds. Also, you are sort of right about Dumbledore, but for the wrong reasons – he is aware that there's more to Harry than he's seeing and is concerned by it, but he still believes that Michael is the Boy-Who-Lived.

**Hpfan550 –** An excellent point, but as you can probably see, there's more Michael's scar than meets the eye (Harry didn't actually _see_ the piece of wood hit his brother)

**Laura Granger –** Thanks for the correction. Guess it's true what they say about Wikipedia…

**Pyromaniac Bunny – **I'm flattered to think I've inspired someone to write their own take on this. By all means, write away, and feel free to use the name 'Michael' if you wish (His full name's Michael Stephen Potter, after both of Lily's grandfathers).

**WesternGirl17 – **Thanks for the info, especially on the Ravenclaw entrance. Fortunately, I've come up with a possible explanation for the discrepancy (plus, the fact that the Slytherin entrance should be a blank wall rather than a painting).

**Vilkath – **I think the stone scene will be intriguing to say the least.

**Lambtastic – **'Alec' is an alternate version of Harry, whose exploits are chronicled in 'Harry Potter: The Lone Traveller' (which is where this story originally came from).

**Lolchen –** The memory-vision in the last chapter was initiated by Alec. That being said, I'm beginning to think that the whole parchment thing was a mistake, at least in terms of what it can do.


End file.
